The God's Cry
by Adelette Puddleduck
Summary: The world of Midgard is changing. People are beginning to question why, and they find malice more and more often. Its wish and obligation is destruction, and its target is the world of humans. [under revision]
1. Little Girl's Last Day

A/N: Right. I do not own Ragnarok. How's that for a witty disclaimer. I'm not a good regular updater, so don't ever feel pushed to read the chapter in ten minutes and be done – there's no rush. I'm the most rubbish updater you'll find anywhere.

Start on a positive note: **Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this, and thank you even more to the people who have something good to say at the end. I wholeheartedly hope you enjoy this story.**

While we're still on the author's notes, if you think this is a short little thing then I suggest you click the back button and check the word count. **This fic is very long**. Like I said, don't feel rushed when you're reading it. However, please do not just skim to the latest chapter and leave a review to tell me how boring this is when it is very clear that you haven't actually bothered to read it. For some strange inexplicable reason, I don't appreciate it. It isn't smart, it isn't funny, and it's just plain annoying.

* * *

_Little Girl's Last Day_

The last day for the ever so quaint village was drawing to a close. The farmers commented that it had been a red dawn, but the day had gone on without even a black cloud to betray the disaster that would rip the place apart. The bells of the clock tower tolled each hour as they came and went. The weak northern sun shone its usual meek summer light. The day was warm and clear. The watchman pounded at an iron panel, and the steady _clang-clang-clang _summoned back the everyday horde and the buzz of their incessant chatter.

The northern town of Arie was tucked neatly out of the way. There was nothing special about it; it was self-sufficient, not particularly famous for anything, and was generally accepted as the town everyone thought of last. Unlike other places, it wasn't part of a city state or region, and didn't have any trade with the rest of the world. There was the dancing school, which, since it stuck only to performance, was becoming increasingly out of fashion, as battle dancers flew gracefully into the scene of Midgard. Prontera had the priests and the knights, mages flocked to Geffen and Juno, the tribes of the Payonese mountains bore excellent archers… Arie was nothing.

There were no seasons, as if the weather didn't deem the place worthy enough of a very dramatic change in weather. Summer was mild and not sunny, winter even less so, before it faded sleepily back into summer. Its inhabitants were traditionally pale-faced and sported neutral features. The houses were huts and the streets were dirt, turning into terracotta slop on rainy days. Meanwhile, the Clock Tower loomed overhead, the town's only feature. It looked blacker every day.

There were theories about the Clock Tower, and they ranged from mundane to impossible. Some people insisted that it was a gathering place for dark and evil wizards, who could call upon the spirits of the dead to do their bidding. Some said that a beast lived in there, undying, searching for life to destroy. Others said it was a marking place for the grave of a god. Few said it told the time.

A meek young girl stood leaning against the gate. She was skinny with not much in the way of strength of aggression. She was a dancer with a lack of confidence that bred a timidity, which she found more than annoying. She had stormed through the novice citizen's trials at the age of six with the result that she should never be trusted with anything sharp, and with an interest in music already expressed, the parents saw that the only logical thing was for her to become a musician. She was the daughter of the town healer, Maia, a woman whose capacity for herbal remedies and spell casting went a lot deeper than mending a broken bone or brewing a remedy for a cold. The uneventful little girl was named Kyo, and she was delicate, meek and frail as a flower in every sense of the word. She had no difficulty with the dances taught to her at school, but she wouldn't dream of calling herself a good dancer. She had no qualms with her physical appearance, but she wouldn't dream of calling herself pretty. She made an effort to smile at others, be polite and encouraging, and generally optimistic. Her efforts were never wasted.

The light hum of people's chatter washed over her. A few people greeted her, expecting conversation, but she recommended them that they move on – she was feeling a bit ill and would consequently not be very interesting to listen to. They would express sympathy and earnest wishes that she would feel better in the morning.

She wasn't ill, but it was only excuse she could think of as to why her mind was so preoccupied. She knew what she felt was dread, but she didn't know why she should be feeling dread.

_Why?_

Part of her began to answer, and she blotted it out quickly.

Why didn't she want to hear the answer?

_Did you honestly think you could keep hiding in your naïve little village?_

Hiding from what though…?

Uneasiness had been piling up dramatically over the last few months, and Midgard was changing. Wariness became uneasiness, uneasiness became dread, and as the minutes trickled on dread became fright. Wildlife was becoming increasingly more aggressive. The world outside was becoming more hostile.

"Kyo!" She looked up, senses settling back reluctantly, to find the watchman staring at her with something that could be described as apprehension. "You should probably be getting home. You don't look so well."

She probably didn't, she conceded in her mind. She nodded at the watchman and smiled, then turned and set off back home.

"Feel better tomorrow, okay?" he called after her.

_I doubt it._

The walk home was quiet, though evening greetings were crisscrossing the air. Kyo crossed her arms over her chest, because it made her feel better. There was a steady rhythm as her paces crackled over the road. The lonely little Arien girl. Self-piteous girl. _Pathetic_, snapped a voice in her mind.

When she reached the clock tower, she stopped. There had always been an odd feeling about the place. Nobody ever went in, so what was actually in there? It was far too tall, a stark, black contrast to the little village surrounding it. The place made her more than uneasy, but she didn't know why. She turned to look at it fully. There were the doors, a little over-compensating in terms of height. Certainly not something to be used by humans… It was covered in runes, written in the Language of the Making, which she'd never learned. It was spell language. But had there always been so many…?

_Dong!_

She startled, throwing her hands over her ears. The abuse didn't continue though… She opened her eyes, which had snapped closed on instinct. She looked up and found the answer to the sudden tolling of bells. It was signalling the half hour. Craning her neck further, she saw the silhouette of a bird… a rather large bird at that. An eagle? Kestrel? Well, some bird of prey. It posed no threat though.

A sudden gust of wind pulled her back to her shattered nerves. Why was she so afraid of nothing? She tried to move, and couldn't. She now fully-understood the term "to make a break for it." Edging further from the clock tower, she readied herself for a sprint.

-x-x-

Maia startled to the sound of someone crashing into her front door. She discovered she'd pricked herself on her sewing, but that didn't matter, as she knew who had finally decided to come home.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, pulling her daughter into a hug. Kyo returned it meekly, and Maia quickly tugged her inside. "Dinner's come and gone. Where have you been? Somewhere fun, I hope."

Maia tried her best to be cheerful, smiling, warm, doting, motherly… but her smile slid away from her features when she took a good look at her only child.

"Sorry," Kyo greeted in the usual meek manner. She shuffled in the direction of her bed, keeping close to the walls.

"Kyo." She stopped. Maia sighed. Kyo was never confident, and there really was no reason why the girl shouldn't have any faith in herself. Her father's death had genuinely ruined her. It tore her apart, and unless she changed, she would lead a very unhappy life. "Won't you tell me what's wrong, love?"

"It's nothing." The reply was far too quick.

"If it's anything y-…"

"I'm sure I'm just being silly."

"What is it? Why are you…", the word suddenly came, "… afraid?"

Kyo went very still. Her fingers curled into fists behind her, then her hands pressed themselves flat against the wall. "Then it is a huge nothing I fear." …_Puzzling._ "I'm tired, mother."

Maia sighed again. The fact that her daughter would never be happy became truer, and began to really tug at her throat. "Sleep well," she said, smiling as sweetly as she could, as her daughter sank fully clothed onto her bed.

X-X-X 

Hawk was a hunter. His bow was strung over his back with a quiver of arrows that he hadn't had to use yet. His falcon was returning, apparently from a village. He was on patrol at the order of his guild mistress, a hyperactive sage by the name of Ruriko. Why she had an Amatsan name when she and her sister were definitely from Morroc was a bit of a mystery. Either way, she had sent him to patrol the northern border, after a prediction she came to by laying out some cards in a slightly organized formation. Something's definitely going to happen, she said. I don't know what, but we need you to be there, she said.

He grit his teeth. It was the northern border. There was Glast Heim, a deserted city with restless dead and a host of demons and the gods only knew what. There was always something happening there. Then there was Arie, the nowhere place. He was annoyed.

Something that fuelled his frustration was a lack of trees; the landscape here was almost totally flat. Hawk worked best in forests, so he wondered why she hadn't asked Draco or Oshi to take this errand, or maybe Taiken. Better yet, why hadn't the silly brat just gone herself? If she knew something was going to happen, then surely she would be best to combat it. She was adept enough at getting herself out of sticky situations, and Draco, being her sister, would make sure she came to no harm.

_Fantastic._ He had no idea where about he was supposed to be patrolling. His falcon, Alder, suggested Arie.

_Don't be ridiculous. Nothing happens in Arie._

Alder replied mildly that maybe that wasn't the case. There was the clock tower there, after all.

Hawk snarled aloud.

Still, Alder reminded him calmly, if anything were to happen to Midgard, it would start here, on this very border. That was the point of the God's Cry – to find the cause to the changes in Midgard.

However, the time was not now. Irritated and slightly flustered from his long sprint, Hawk took a scrap of paper and began scrawling a note to Ruriko saying that her information was wrong. He was also tempted to ask how an idiot such as herself had ever managed to enter the Juno Academy of Magic, as she was a bit of an idiot. Tempting as it was, oh so very tempting, he didn't. She was a good sage, and he'd rather not be on the receiving end of one of her spells.

He folded the note to give to Alder, who was now very put out. The falcon refused to take it.

_Stubborn! What is it? _Hawk growled this time, making Alder take off and fly a few feet above him, both frightened by the hunter's temper and amused at the interesting array of angry noises he was producing. This did a splendid job of irritating Hawk. "Oh, very well," he sighed, knowing that Alder would not do as he said. "What is it you are looking for? What can you see?"

The falcon let out a slight shriek and tore off north, leaving Hawk to sprint behind him.

-x-x-

Kyo woke up to a scream, which was cut ruthlessly short. Dizzy with fatigue, she listened hard. She scanned the hut, and her mother wasn't there. Now she was confused…

She was not sure what she heard, but the word carnage plagued her mind. Her mother's absence had thrown her mind into a panic. She scrambled off her mattress and threw herself out of the door.

She stood staring for a few seconds before her mind accepted what her young eyes saw. It was burning. Arie was burning. Screams rose through the air, tearing the night apart.

Ash fell unchecked over her face, now stiff with terror. She did not attempt to blink the embers out of her eyes, though tears swelled up and blurred her vision.

"HELP!"

One of the townspeople came stumbling into view; a man, a father, of about forty. He was being pursued by some kind of monster, stuttering the word "help" over and over, as though it would do him some good.

The monster was a kind Kyo had never seen before. It had the shape of a clock, but it had gnarled arms growing awkwardly out of its sides. Where there would have been a clock face, there was a sneering, fanged, cadaverous expression. It shrieked and screamed and stretched in grimaces and jeers.

Her senses returning to her body, Kyo turned and ran, not wishing to see more. There was a bone-crunching thud behind, and she felt the man's life fall away as surely as though it were her own.

The places she had memorised vanished, and she sprinted wildly through the unfamiliar streets of the town where she had grown up. She saw merciless chunks had been torn from the buildings, and there were no faces greeting her by the name Kyo. Her legs carried her on while her mind vaguely followed, not sure how to react to everything.

The air warped from crimson to black as she fled to the outskirts on the village, but she didn't stop; she pounded on, up the hill, seeking safety. Her limbs worked furiously, until finally she collapsed gasping on the earth, the smell of grass overwhelming her. She now felt as though she was made of lead, and everything had sunken in. Her feet hammered as though she was still running, protesting about the hard journey she made them take. She vaguely remembered landing not quite on the flat of her foot while hurtling around a corner… it hurt a lot, and it continued to throb now.

She didn't know what had happened; there were probably more of those monsters, and they were probably still pouring out of the clock tower, wrecking her village. There was a wish, a want for death there… to make everything suffer. Everything she had known, everything she had grown up with was now gone. Wiped away. Erased. And she could have stopped it. Why didn't she say something? She should have known. The image of that man, staring into her eyes with his own shattered, fearful glare. She should be down there now, dying with the others.

The dread in her stomach churned and curdled bitterly. She'd ran, she'd escaped, and she lived. Without a home, friends, teachers, or mother, she was alone, and she'd have to carry on that way. She couldn't hide in her naïve little village any longer; she had to face the rest of the world where everything was double-edged and harder than it seemed.

What had happened to Mother? She could make everything okay again, but where was she? Things had sunk and she wasn't here…

Kyo tried to ignore the night air forming a layer of frost over her warm, tired body. She tried to ignore the pain, and whatever it was that happened. Her throat tightened, and she cried.

X-X-X

Hawk kept a steady pace after Alder, who kept on a direct course. The falcon was soon taking a detour, swooping low and circling something on the ground. Why…?

Hawk took a few seconds to catch up, and watched Alder beadily for a moment or two. He glided back and forth over a crumpled heap of flesh and clothes. Looking closer, Hawk saw that it was a woman. Looking closer still, he saw that she was crying.

He felt strange; he had never been in a situation that required him to show pity. His previous anger ebbed away.

"Um… hey," he called. She did not look up. Indeed, it seemed as though she was aware of neither the man knelt a little way from her, nor the falcon patrolling the air above her back.

Hawk watched for a moment, waiting for some kind of reaction. All she did was sob. Impatient, he seized her by the shoulders and made her sit upright. Although he immediately wished he hadn't done so.

She looked more than a little distressed, which threw him – what made her like this?

He re-gathered his thoughts and grappled for something to say. "What happened? Why are you here?"

She continued crying, raising her hands to cover her face, and breathing coming short and sharp. He felt her shoulders tense with every hiccup, but he doubted whether she were aware of anything.

Sighing, he continued: "If you cannot speak, perhaps you should head for Prontera. I'm sure the priest guild will tend to you, but it's still a long walk."

Her hands slipped, and she relaxed for a second. She regarded him somewhat serenely. She closed her eyes and she let her head loll onto her shoulder.

Hawk's impatience got the better of him. He tightened his grip on her shoulders and shook her, ignoring the way her head flailed numbly. "Listen! I don't know what happened, and I don't much care either. But if you want to die, you keep going like this. And you don't want to die, do you? You could co-operate and come with me, or I can leave you here to either waste away or to be eaten by something weird. Or keep this up, and I will end up killing you!" he whispered venomously. He regretted it as soon as he said it, but he refused to let it show. Alder reprimanded him in general shock.

She stopped shaking and nodded, though she still cried.

"An improvement, I suppose…" muttered Hawk. He roughly released his grip on her, leaving her to fall a few inches. "Let's go." He set off at a sturdy pace, then realized that she wasn't following.

He was about to yell something sharp, then the words fell from his mouth when he looked at her. She tried standing up, but one leg refused to support her weight, and toppled beneath her. She wrapped her hands around her face, and began shaking her head. The offending leg ended in an ankle that stuck out at an angle.

Hawk watched her piteously. It was not as though he enjoyed being cold and cruel, it was just that his nature didn't allow himself to be less so. He was impatient, he knew; Draco had always made it known it was so. He found he had loosened up since encountering people whom he could safely call friends, but new people was something of an arduous task for him. It just wasn't easy for him to be around people he'd never met before.

Sick of watching her fall, he strode back up to her, lifted her into the air, and carried her the way his mother had when he was a boy no older than three: letting her lie over his arms and supporting her back and legs. She felt too light. She did not seem fazed again, and one arm was left to dangle limply over his back.

Hawk ordered Alder to return to the hideout; it would be okay to bring the girl there. He had suddenly burst out with her coming with him, and he was not going to Prontera by himself… Also, she didn't seem to be capable of… well, anything really.

"We're not going to Prontera," he said in no more than a whisper, much to his surprise. "There is another place that is safer."

She made a yes noise, and she then snuggled against Hawk's chest. He watched her curiously for a moment, but she seemed fast asleep, nuzzling him. _Nuzzling?_ his imagination spluttered. He wasn't sure whether or not he should make some sort of response to this. He chose to let her sleep on, and heaved a great sigh. He had worked as part of a team, as he always did. But he couldn't remember when he felt really… needed. To leave this girl was certain death for her. He dismissed this feeling as a figment of his imagination.

Throughout the journey, he seemed to have a very active imagination.

X-X-X 

The next few days passed in a blur for Kyo. Night and day failed to pass for her; all she knew was that one moment she lay face down in the grass and the next, and then she was… rescued it seemed. She wasn't sure where they were going, what she was going to do, how far they'd come or even who this kind stranger was. It seemed like a dream at first, but she woke up to it many times. Although that she didn't know him at all, and that she was costing so much trouble made her quite uneasy. She was eager to find out who he was.

She did remember his being rather rough with her, although after he hadn't left her to be eaten by something weird this aggressive feat didn't count for much. It just meant he was probably quite… _fierce_. It didn't seem like he'd follow it through. Mother had always said to be careful of things, especially people, that seem, but she was fairly certain of his having a good character.

At least sketching out his personality and his constant presence meant she didn't have to think of less pleasant things just yet.

She woke again, only sat down and leaning against a tree. She was in a forest somewhere, lush and green. The trees grew tall and thin, the bark almost red. There was a river running, its water clear and fresh. Kyo stumbled onto all fours and crawled to edge, splashing the gorgeously cool water over her face. Feeling truly awake now, she thought she should at least try to stand up.

Pain shot through her limbs and she buckled beneath herself. Next thing she saw, she had fallen sharply and soundly on her rear.

"You okay?"

Kyo tensed and looked up, then relaxed when she realized who it was. She suddenly felt very embarrassed; it would've been a lot easier if he wasn't nice, but he looked so concerned that guilt bubbled in the pit of her stomach. She quickly averted her eyes without thinking too carefully. Then she remembered that she hadn't yet seen him properly, and peered nervously back through her now matted hair. A bow and quiver was strapped to his shoulders. And they were broad shoulders too, he was of quite a firm muscular build. He was tall and tanned, and his features were dark. In fact, his eyes were almost unnaturally dark. None of his facial features were really obtrusive – he was very nice-looking actually – but those eyes were mildly unnerving.

All she could do was nod.

"Good," he said. He did seem relieved.

He probably realized that she was watching him, and she looked away again. When she didn't say anything, he did. "Are you sure you feel okay? You haven't done much this last couple of days."

"To be honest, sir, I wasn't quite sure of what was going on," she admitted tensely. She turned to face him properly, realising she had something important to say. "Thank you."

He rubbed the back of his head, almost sheepishly, saying, "Oh… it was nothing… really…" He didn't seem used to this level of gratitude or attention.

"But it was," she reasoned. "If it weren't for you, sir, surely I would be…"

He gazed at her intently for a moment, his lips curved into a pleasant smile that reached right to his eyes. "You don't need to call me sir. I'm just a humble hunter."

"What should I call you then, sir?"

"Hawk," he said simply. He stood up, striding towards her. "We're almost there now." He bent down and lifted her up again.

"So, where exactly are we going, Hawk?" she asked, trying out the name.

"The God's Cry," he replied. Kyo blinked, and when he caught the look on her face, he began to explain. "I am one of a party, and the God's Cry is what we call ourselves. We have a base, which is near Juno."

"Who is the rest of the party?" The name sounded fairly familiar to her; a travelling merchant talked of a most excellent blacksmith, saying the man was one of the guild – it may not have been this guild. But she was glad to have the chance to just talk with Hawk.

"Well, first, there is Taiken. I guess he's kind of our leader, but he's not the guildmaster. He's a good bard, good singer and plays four different instruments well. Wouldn't call him a good fighter though. He's great, but he is quite weak. Great guy though, very friendly.

"Oshi's a good fighter, but he's not friendly at all, definitely not a people person. He's probably just shy, but if it's something else he isn't telling. Never says much about himself, so don't feel put out if he doesn't take to you.

"Draco's kind of like his partner in crime – they tend to work together. They're a good team. She's a lot more likeable than he is; she at least has time for people.

"Ruriko is a sage, and the guild mistress. She's a good girl, but she's a complete basket case. She means well, but you might find her quite annoying.

"Chisel's always out somewhere, doing whatever he does. He's all nice and friendly too, although we don't really see him much. Really great blacksmith though…"

Kyo continued to stare into his face. She dwelt a bit on his concern that Oshi wouldn't take to her, as this seemed to hint that this guild was to be her destination, that she did have somewhere to go. Maybe she didn't have much to worry about.

And Hawk seemed very nice. He continued to talk, quite modestly, as though he were nervous. Maybe he wasn't used to it. Worryingly, she couldn't help but be very interested in him.

X-X-X

"Message!" sang Ruriko.

Draco smiled. Even if the message was just a report or something incredibly boring, every time, Ruriko would be really excited about it.

"Anything interesting?" asked Draco, crossing her legs and leaning back slightly on the stool on which she sat sharpening her katars. Katars were a strange weapon, suited for both stabbing and slashing. She couldn't wield them half as well as Oshi, vastly preferring her twin daggers, Ares and Eris; however, she was determined to beat Oshi in a spar with the things, so she kept them close at hand to practise with whenever the opportunity arose.

She watched her little sister, intense emerald eyes swishing over the note.

"Hawk is on his way back. And he found a girl on patrol," replied Ruriko, handing the note to Draco. She gave her trademark smile, a wide enthusiastic beam. "He says she somehow survived something, which may have had something to do with the little strange activities and goings-on and stuff."

With a little obtrusive "oh!" noise, she flew down into a squat and flicked through to a half-covered page of her diary.

Even Draco, who had grown up with Ruriko and knew her inside out, right down from the freckles on her nose up to her lilting voice, regarded this little diary with curiosity, simply because Ruriko had poured her heart and soul into it. Although she also felt quite proud that the diary was so much a part of the girl, because it had in fact been a present from Draco.

Ruriko carried her diary with her everywhere, and just about everything she did was followed by writing in it. It was a blushing, light pink colour, with a gold heart embellished on the cover and a gold padlock, the key of which she kept on a charm bracelet. The cover, incidentally, was on the wrong side of the book. As for the way it was written, only Ruriko knew what those runes meant. It was written in the Language of the Making – the language that was the very spirit of Midgard. It was from this language that spells were made, so it was natural that mages and acolytes should have a basic understanding of it. It had taken four generations of their family to learn, but Ruriko could speak it fluently, which was quite a rare ability. In here, she wrote of her daily life, her feelings, and her spells, which was one of the reasons she took it with her in combat.

Draco had seen inside the diary before, trying to find some sort of pattern in the endless black symbols, but in the end, all she saw was a jumble of ink in strange shapes. She frowned, and handed it back to Ruriko, who would always be beaming.

It contained a fairly thorough record of her life, but she didn't channel spells with it. The majority of magic users channelled their spells with custom-made crystals, and Ruriko was no exception. Although most were content to have them mounted into a staff, she had hers embedded into her skin, just below her neck. Draco did not approve of this. It looked somewhat painful.

Ruriko was definitely powerful, and a pleasant, cheerful girl, but she could be so damn stupid sometimes.

-x-x-

"You must tell no-one of this place," Hawk warned Kyo as they stood in front of a giant slab of rock. It didn't look like anything special, but Hawk wouldn't come here were that the case. She observed the landscape fleetingly. It was dry and barren, black gnarled trees crawling out of the ground occasionally. She wondered quickly why anyone would want to come here.

There was some kind of whispering above her head. She raised her gaze to Hawk now, who was reading off of a scrap of paper and chanting, his eyes fixedly placed on one area of the smooth, dusky stone.

He had stopped now, and seemed slightly tired by this little feat.

"Ruriko does it so easily," he said. "It's a spell that opens the door, and only she and Taiken can do it without suddenly becoming very tired."

There was then a small, clapping sound, almost like something being unlocked. Green light streamed in lines from some areas of the rock, and Kyo realised that the lines were, in fact, outlining separate parts of the rock – cuts made in it. They all broke away and hovered jaggedly through the air. Hawk took them through the gap now made.

As shadow washed over them, she tried to see what the bricks did now. Jade light still streaming after them, they rocketed themselves back into place, with satisfying thuds that shook the entrance of the cave and left puffs of green smoke to hover and disappear.

When she turned back, she was being carried through some kind of maze. She tried to remember her way through it, but lost track eventually. There seemed to be thousands of snaking passageways winding through these outer caves. Sand poured down auburn walls, and there seemed to be a dripping sound coming from an indeterminable source. Some of the passages were gaping holes that stretched to the spiked ceiling and the dusty floor, while some were no more than narrow cracks. Some passages had caved in, leaving a pile of forgotten rubble.

But Hawk was certain of where he was going. Kyo thought maybe she should ask how, but thought it a silly question; this was his home.

Eventually, they came to a plain and uneventful looking wall. Again, Hawk must have steered them right. He now adjusted her position slightly, so that he carried her with only his right arm. He lifted his left arm into the air, and let the torchlight shine on a shining circle around his wrist. Kyo blinked. She knew this circlet to be not of diamond or ruby or sapphire, but of oridecon. It was a milky blue colour, neither particularly transparent nor did it look solid. It's surface rippled like water, but glittered like ice. As he continued to hold it in the light, it began to glow green, and there was a strange sound, like a whisper of wind.

He smiled down at her, and walked straight at the wall. She was not afraid, but she closed her eyes. She gasped as cold suddenly gripped her, and she clung tighter to Hawk.

It ended as quickly as it had begun, and when she opened her eyes, they were on the other side of the rock, staring into four new faces.

-x-x-

"Welcome back, Hawk," said Draco, serene smile in place.

"Yeah, how was your trip?"

"How are you, darling?"

Hawk didn't return the amiable greetings of Ruriko and Taiken. "Could one of you do a bit of healing over here?" Hawk interjected before they could continue. Ruriko leapt forward, a confident smile over her face. She set her hands hovering over Kyo's burnt legs, closing her eyes and beginning to focus. She took a deep breath, and…

Paused for a moment. She frowned with her eyes closed, then opened them slowly, still looking ready to perform the spell. She always took longer than she thought she would to remember the words. Healing spells were of the holy orders, so the incantations weren't in the Language of the Making. The odd words slowly formed in her mind…

"Aha!" she declared triumphantly. She reset her focus, and began chanting. "_Iussu mei, sarcio hic mendum._"

Healing was quite difficult if you were not a priest, who were selected and trained from an early age. It was all well and good mending a vase, but human skin and bones was a different question; it required a deep understanding of how humans were put together, as it was almost like telekinesis, coaxing the broken pieces back into place with deft and specific hand movements, chanting and concentrating hard all the time. Ruriko and Taiken were fair healers, although they often shied from more demanding wounds; in the case of very serious injuries, they just did what they could to stop the bleeding, and go to a fully trained cleric if need be.

-x-x-

"That's acolyte magic, isn't it?" asked Kyo, rising. It felt wonderful to stand up after all this time.

"Yeah," replied the girl, standing also. "But it's a really useful spell, so I recorded it anyway. You wouldn't believe how long it took to write in all the hand movements."

Kyo smiled at her. She guessed this was Ruriko. Her first impression was that the girl looked quite… funny, really. Her hair was a dark ginger sort of colour, and fell heavily around her face and down her back, where it stopped just below her knees. She was short with a slender figure that lacked any curves to recommend it. Her chest was as flat as a boy's. Through a barrage of dark round freckles dotted all over her, her skin was the olive colour of her Amatsan and Morrocan heritage. Blinking benignly through pale lashes were pastel green eyes. Overall, she was not the kind of person who could captivate a room with her astounding beauty (there was quite an amazing amount of freckles…), although her sweet green-eyed laughter-dimpled smile promised a girl of a positive and friendly disposition.

She looked about the rest of the room. It looked almost like the entrance of a palace, red and velvet curtains stretching from stalactite to ceiling. To the right, there was a table, on which someone had left a pair of katars. At the far end of the room, next to a doorway that presumably led to the rest of the house, was a bookshelf, filled to bursting with books in various forms of age and shambles. On top of the bookshelf were some very strange instruments: a crystal ball, a small silver drawstring bag that was stuffed with little pebbles, a deck of cards that towered almost to the ceiling (Kyo spent about a second wondering why they hadn't toppled down), a whistle, a knife that looked like an ordinary knife but whose silver blade seemed to emit it's own light…

The room itself was fairly interesting, but she needed to know the people in it. In terms of fashion, Ruriko was nothing, but Kyo thought her pretty in her own way. Feeling plain and a little conspicuous, Kyo first directed her attention to a stately looking gentleman who was staring incessantly at her. She knew his eyes were grey, but her own eyes told her that they were silver. _He looks very… bard-like_, she thought, not able to conjure a better adjective. He had tropical looks with a fairly solid tan and an incredibly friendly grin. His hair was longer than Hawk's, and messier too, but it was honey blonde, almost gold in the light. There was an easiness in his manner that made him very approachable.

Leaning coolly and casually against one of the walls was a woman who met Kyo's gaze without fear. She must be Ruriko's sister – they had the same slim lips and almond-shaped eyes. Although this woman was definitely beautiful beneath her rough exterior. She looked as though she could do with a bath, but her skin was mostly devoid of freckles, and her hair was sleek and black, brushing lightly against her shoulders. She was more tanned than her sister, and with darker features, sharp sea-green eyes, and a nice defined figure all added up to a lady worthy of the nobility into which she had supposedly been born… hiding beneath a fighting robe and layer of dirt, of course.

The other assassin was trying to pass off as non-descript. Kyo could see why; his face was sharp and very distinctive. It was the kind that stayed in the mind. He stared accusingly at her with a glare that was sharp and focused. His eyes were grey like Taiken's, but they were steely grey, with a distinct upward slant and a heavily lidded narrowness. His appearance was immaculate, his clothes plain, and nondescript brown hair swept lightly out of the way.

"How did you end up where Hawk found you?" he asked when she didn't look away.

"Um… I'm not entirely sure. I just ran there, really," she replied uneasily, but she knew it wouldn't be a good enough answer; she would have to tell her story.

-x-x-

"Oshi, don't you think maybe that's a question that can wait for tomorrow?" reasoned Draco. "Let them rest."

"I don't see why it can't be now," replied Oshi quietly. "I think the girl's mouth works just fine."

"We all need a little time to deal with things," stated Draco dryly.

"She has had the time." Draco glowered, and seemed to be on the verge of a very sharp retort. She bit it back with a furious shake.

"I shall show you to your room," said Taiken, stepping forward. Any argument with Oshi was never pretty. He was incredibly stubborn, and he would brood for weeks if someone disagreed with him. "What is your name, Miss?"

"Kyo. It's Kyo," she replied nervously. She smiled at Taiken, but still eyed Oshi and Draco somewhat warily.

"This way, Kyo," said Taiken, leading her off with one arm around her shoulders, steering her through the door that Oshi stood by. Taiken panicked inwardly for a second or two, hoping that Oshi did not go so far as to step in front of the door, in their way.

He did no such thing, but gave Taiken a sharp innocent gaze, which was unnerving for some reason. Taiken chose to ignore it however, and continued steering Kyo in the direction of a spare room.

"They only go all at each-other's throats occasionally," explained Taiken, hoping to at least put her mind at ease. "Some of the arguments here are quite funny, in a sad way."

Kyo giggled, and turned to look at him. She was not very tall.

He watched her for a moment, as she thought of something to say, but then all she did was smile nervously.

He led her further into the caves. Her head swerved this way and that, taking in every detail. When they had first occupied the caves, he was always getting lost in the winding caves, and was normally found by Draco, who, at his sheepish grin, would fall into a laughing fit. He knew his way around now.

He continued down one passageway, then stopped quite suddenly.

-x-x-

Taiken held his left arm up in the torchlight, which danced red over his face. Kyo blinked, realising that he wore an oridecon band around his wrist, identical to Hawk's. She figured all of them must have one, considering that they were needed to get into these caves. Able to look at it more closely, she saw there were runes carved all around it. She wondered what they meant. She wanted to ask, but kept her curiosity at bay and calling it nosiness.

She brought her thoughts back to her head and away from the oridecon, and walked eagerly through the newly appeared doorway, which Taiken now gestured to.

"Ladies first," he said politely, taking a step back and bowing. She felt colour rise in her cheeks and began her exploration of this new room before anything was noticed.

It was almost like the room of an inn, but a lot more cosy and covered in silks and velvets. There was an empty dressing table, sultry with a handsome cherry wood finish and plain mirror. A squashy looking mattress lay comfortably in the far corner, strewn with pillows and cushions. Lying against the wall nearest them was a large chest, and opposite stood a wardrobe with the same cherry finish.

"I'm guessing you didn't bring anything with you," mused Taiken. "We'll have to get you a circlet for your wrist, so that you can get in and out. And naturally, we'll show you around. When we go out hunting you will be expected to wear that uniform."

"But why, Taiken sir?" she asked, tugging nervously at the ribbons flowing down her back; she had always hated wearing her uniform. It looked good on the other dancers, but she felt very conspicuous and vulnerable. Arien uniform was slightly more practical than the gold and flounce sported by dancers from Comodo. At least there were sleeves and stockings. Although, why the shoulders were left bare and the stockings had diamond shapes cut out around the knee and the middle of the calf was a bit of a mystery. They wore proper shoes rather than the silly little sandals. The colours were red, black and white. The sleeves, stockings and top were all black; the ribbons, the slightly pointless little blouse and the pattern on the skirt were red; and the skirt was white. Her jewellery was kept to a minimum, and was plain and silver. It served well for the boring northern climate and the fact that they were kept jealously inside most of the time – the paleness of the northern beauties was guarded meticulously.

"Okay, so it's a bit skimpy," he conceded slowly. "But it's a mark of your craft."

"… I see."

"You won't be expected to lounge around in it; I'll see if we can some old clothes of Draco's; I doubt Ruriko's stuff will fit. I imagine you're not particularly desperate to be clambering into some of mine, Chisel, Hawk or Oshi's things. Be aware that we are indeed taking you in – we want you to be useful, live by our rules and do as we say. You don't look like the sort to cause trouble…"

"But I will not be of any service to you," she gabbled back, confused. Was she just going to be a housekeeper or something?

"Ah, that's where you're wrong," he replied with a smile. "I take it Hawk told you I'm a bard?" She nodded. "Well, he probably also told you that I'm not a good fighter." He ruffled his hair sheepishly. "I'm support. Music can channel magic in ways that simple chants and gestures can't. We can call on others to grant us strength. I'm basically support. Kind of like a priest, but not."

Kyo continued to nod.

"We'll have to take you to Comodo School of Music and Dance; that's the best school to learn dances for combat from, and they do have their own style of fighting. I'm not sure what we're going to do about actually getting you in, you're probably a good dancer, but archery's going to be a problem and that's one of the bare essentials of getting in…"

She thought about the phrase "bare essentials."

"So… there is other stuff? Besides archery that is needed to get in?" she asked before she gave herself the chance to grow too shy.

"Well, of course," he replied. "They only let in pretty girls. And you have to be able to sing, as they have to teach you songs as well. You have to have the right figure too." He looked her up and down quickly. "They may or may not recognise the uniform, but if you can sing and dance well, then you'd most definitely be accepted. I would say Comodo is probably your best option."

"What do they look for in a bard, Taiken sir?" she asked. It must have been a couple of years since he went, as he sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling in a nostalgic fashion.

"Dexterous fingers, which should come with the archery," he said, counting on his fingers as he went. "Good eyesight, good voice, good ear, how handsome you are, and they pay particularly close attention to your hair, for whatever reason. I would like you to think about this proposition of mine; it is certainly the easiest. Let me know when you feel better.

"You should probably get some rest now, and I know Ruriko especially will want to hear your tale. She's known something was going to happen for a while now, and you seem to be at the centre of it."

And with that, he left her to fall blissfully back into the array of blankets and cushions, and fall instantly into a contented and mercifully dreamless sleep.


	2. The God's Cry

_The God's Cry_

Taiken thought it best to return to the entrance and clear up the fight between Oshi and Draco. It was impossible to say who was the stronger, or the more stubborn. They would wrangle for a while, Draco for the sake of what she thought was right, and Oshi for the sake of not giving in. If Ruriko thought she knew what was going on, she would often help her sister, but Taiken doubted whether Draco needed any help arguing. As usual with Ruriko, looks were deceiving and she showed herself to be very assertive and ferocious when it came to arguments.

Taiken took the familiar left turn to the entrance, and found himself standing in front of the door. He actually paused for a minute or so outside it, listening to angry muffles through the walls. He sighed, gathered himself and strode in.

Ruriko stood stone-faced and silent in the corner, and Draco and Oshi were stood either side of room, yelling at each other. Hawk sat, exhausted and with a hand pressed to his forehead, wishing it were both over and had nothing to do with him. Taiken suspected poor Hawk would fall asleep if the shouting hadn't been taking place only a few feet away from him.

Hawk and Ruriko looked up as Taiken made his entrance. Oshi and Draco, on the other hand, made no sign of acknowledging his presence.

"Oshi brings the voice of reason, Draco the voice of tolerance," he began sharply, catching their attention. "We are all anxious to hear what she has to say, and those who are so anxious that they cannot contain themselves, I invite to run to the spare room and wake up the sleeping girl and ask her."

Taiken felt a niggle of satisfaction as he heard himself say the words; but he felt also his more serious side surfacing. Draco and Oshi stood numb, no sound escaping their mouths.

"Get some rest, Hawk. You look dead on your feet," he continued, assuming charge. "Draco, can you rootle through the robes you don't mind giving up and leaving them in our guest's room; the one on the left of the two in the right hand passageway. Ruriko, go out and buy a bow and some arrows. Any bow will do, as long as it will fire arrows. Rootle through the armoury if you feel lazy. Oshi, you will hear what she has to say tomorrow. Don't worry."

Hawk stumbled gratefully back towards the winding caves, Ruriko pacing after him, the usual spring absent from her step, in the direction of the vault, and Draco trailing coolly, lagging behind in shame. The whole energy of the room fell from rage and fire to drained and flat. Oshi remained where he was until Hawk and Draco were gone. He heaved a great sigh, and gave Taiken a withering look.

"Some day, you will have to tell us what is wrong," Taiken said in monotone. His voice remained flat and lifeless, but the words uttered carried much weight.

Oshi nodded solemnly, then sidled out of the room, to contain himself within his own space.

x-x-x

Draco treaded numbly down familiar paths. She felt deeply ashamed at her outburst with Oshi. She had no idea why; if there was on thing that would help this girl, yelling was not it. Dragging the heroic Hawk and innocent Kyo into one of their arguments may have been it.

She physically shook her head and occupied herself with the route to her own corner of the maze.

The God's Cry guild was actually founded by Ruriko, who had said without a doubt that the world would begin to change soon. Naturally, Draco was the first to be at her sister's side, helping to find out about what was going on. And so the world began to change, and they found others who were eager and curious like themselves. And a couple of years ago, the king began to age rapidly, monsters swarmed in greater numbers, and the God's Cry were labelled as trouble makers and war mongerers. With that, their operations became more secret, and their ways more elaborate. Ruriko had been welcomed back to Yuno, where she had learnt her magic, and began to advance. The caves were found, and the God's Cry excavated them. The outer caves were a labyrinth, in which they were trapped in for days. It would have been longer, had Ruriko not been with them. They broke through, and on the spur of the moment, she had yelled happily, "Home sweet home!" Taiken, who thought the spur the best part of the moment, had shrugged humouredly, saying why not. So spells and enchantments were made and placed over the inner caves, and tunnels crafted, decorated richly as they went. And so their home came to be.

It had taken Ruriko months to find the spell over the oridecon bands, and even longer to find the ingredients. But soon, the circlets were around their wrists and working well.

Swishing aside the curtain that separated her room from the stone corridors, Draco began her search for old clothes. She flung her wardrobe open and threw its contents, which were surprisingly heavy, onto her bed. There must have been about a dozen kimonos hung in there, which she now observed, being laid in front of her. She now realised how beautiful each one was, in their bold colours and shimmering silks, embroidery glittering gracefully.

She directed her attention first to the one on the far left; a black one. Silhouettes of bamboo and blazing silver cranes flew gracefully over the dark sheen. Draco would give this one to Kyo. She chose another black one also, only with cherry blossoms embroidered all over it's surface. She knew they were only supposed to be white, but just a glance could have you lost in a swirl of endless pastel pinks and blues and golds, winking jovially. She picked also a thin, wonderfully soft one, made of the deepest midnight blue silk. Also a red one, with a rosy pink line waving down the middle, almost like a river of flowers, emblazoned with ribbons, and so bright that Draco had regarded it as childish. The last to be given to Kyo was a robe of violet fabric, graced with silver butterflies, gliding down the sleeves and fluttering through the folds.

Draco stood back, gazing wistfully at these beautiful dresses spread before her; she would give these away. She suspected that even the plainest girl would look pretty in any one of them.

She threw the rest back into her wardrobe and paused, not really sure what was going through her head. She thought maybe she should perhaps change into one of them, seeing as they were there.

She hesitantly stepped out of her assassin's garb, and wrapped herself in a plain black kimono, with a noble dragon, gold and beautiful, flowing down her back. She watched the transformation of herself in the mirror, still wistful.

She was a woman as much as she was a killer. But the assassin was as much a part of her as the lady and the sister. She kept Ruriko close, partly for love, but mostly for the fear of losing the woman to the killer. She regarded her gift of murder carefully, neither shunning nor taking pride. She had felt loss, and since then, she had always hesitated before making her final strike.

The mirror did not fool her. Her boots were now stashed away, her head held not a hood or hat but only black hair, and a dress hugged her woman's hips and fluttered femininely over her ankles. She could pale her face, redden her lips, darken her eyes, pull back her hair, put artificial blush into her cheeks…

The path she trod was that of an assassin. And she could not turn back from that.

And she did not intend on doing so.

x-x-x

Hawk awoke surprisingly early the next day. He blinked the lingering exhaustion out of his eyes, leapt out of bed, and prepared to charge through the caves to utter a hurried apology to everyone else for sleeping in so late. However, the passages were still and silent, and he even felt slightly foolish, with a scruffy old archer's tunic and trousers hastily shoved over his skin.

He thought he should at least check on Kyo; maybe she would be awake as well. So he began his saunter to where Taiken had led her.

The recollection of his name made Hawk realise he should probably ask Taiken about whether or not Kyo would be staying. It seemed she was vital to unravelling the mystery of Midgard and it's potential facing of a war. However, he wasn't sure if the others would be willing to allow her into the God's Cry; she seemed too fragile to kill anything, human or beast. Hawk now realised how much killing his own life involved. He should have known that, being a hunter. But the amount of fighting and killing he did now seemed excessive, especially since he had joined the God's Cry to save Midgard. It was mainly monsters though, but he now felt tainted somehow as his thoughts progressed.

When he reached the door of Kyo's room, he was actually slightly hesitant to walk in, though his journey passed in a bit of a blur. It was rude to enter a woman's room without permission, and even more so to wake her.

He told his arm to knock, but it remained stationary at his side.

He was spared the effort, as the door opened, and Draco slipped through it.

"Good morning," she said amiably, smiling. "I trust you are well rested?"

"Very," replied Hawk, smiling back. There was something different about her; not just the way she was dressed (although that was a bit of a surprise), but maybe the way she was holding herself.

"Hey, um…" she began. She raised her gaze to the ceiling, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry."

Hawk frowned. This wasn't what he had been expecting. "… For what?"

"Just… arguing. Being me."

"Don't be sorry. Please. You were at least arguing in my favour," he replied after a slight pause. He watched her carefully. She _was_ holding herself differently; she clasped her hands in front of her in the vast sleeves of a dress, as maybe a humble wife would. It seemed to Hawk that she was trying to be more feminine. Her hair was pulled back with an elegant ribbon on the back of her head. Her robe was red, and she had selected a particularly womanly belt. Her next question confirmed it.

"Do you think I should try and grow my hair long again?" she said, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.

Hawk smiled involuntarily, remembering the day she had cut it. It had been in the middle of a fight, with no thoughts of the future on anyone's minds. It had just happened. Ruriko had been sat cross-legged on the floor, flicking through her diary in search of a spell. Taiken had been endlessly chanting and strumming at his guitar. Hawk had been shooting a myriad of arrows at their foe, fleeing when it began to chase him, then shooting again when he gained distance. Draco and Oshi had been pursuing it as it began to chase Hawk, intent, determined, focused, fixed, katars flashing dangerously, slicing the air with deft movements.

Draco had shook a long wave of jet-black hair out of her face, revealing a face creased with irritation. "To hell with this!" she yelled angrily. She simply grabbed her hair, and hacked it off, leaving some to fall leisurely to her shoulders. Oshi had given her a quizzical look, then gave the black hair now on the floor an almost wistful glance. It spread over the cold stone floor, like a glossy raven's wing. However, Hawk thought now a good time to spoil the moment, considering he was now on the brink of death – his bow lay forgotten on the floor next to him, and both hands were on the top and bottom jaw of the giant reptilian beast he had been shooting at for the last twenty minutes, and was now moments away from swallowing him whole. His arms were giving way, and it's teeth were alarmingly close to his head.

"Help me, damn you!" he bellowed, trying to take his focus off the monster's breath. The next second, both assassins leapt fiercely forward, as had Taiken. After a minute of merciless assault, Ruriko sprung to her feet and began the spell that had taken so long to find.

Hawk thought about Draco's question, then broke the silence.

"Does it really matter what I think?" he said.

"Well, did you prefer it when it was long, or how it is now?" she replied, waving her hands impetuously.

"I would prefer if you had it the way _you_ wanted it."

"That doesn't make a lot of sense…"

"You do what you want with it. If anyone else says otherwise, well, considering it is on your head on which your hair grows, tell them too bad, but you have the final say on what happens to it."

She smiled. "I think I'll keep it short."

Hawk nodded, hoping he made it clear that he approved.

"Any reason you're down here?" she asked, breaking the silence again.

"Just checking on Kyo."

"Ah! She's asleep still." She gestured toward him, opened the door and beckoned him to look through. This was more than he bargained for, and it caught him slightly by the surprise. She was indeed asleep, clutching a pillow with both arms, hair spread out like a copper stream, fanning out over the pillows.

But all too soon, Draco resealed the door, blocking his view.

x-x-x

"You and Taiken should leave her a couple of days, then take her to Payon," Draco remarked, sensing something need to be said. "Taiken says he's going to try and get her into Comodo school."

She watched for some kind of reaction, but only received a nod.

"Shall we ask her when she wakes up?" he asked.

"Shouldn't we discuss it a bit more during breakfast?"

"I guess that would be a slightly better idea," he agreed.

"Well then," she replied in a mock-irritated voice. "You'd better go catch it, hadn't you."

"Yes mother," he said with a salute and a smile. It was always good to see Hawk smile; a sweet little reminder that he had a human side.

She watched him set off, staring vacantly at the space he had been standing in. Most of the time, Hawk was cold and composed. To anyone new he might meet, he was icy and harsh. He only seemed to warm up to those whom he trusted. However, earning his trust was an arduous task, and consequently, many wouldn't bother, and just leave him as the aloof, indifferent unfeeling hunter. She noticed his trust was easily broken, and suspected it took a long time to heal. As an assassin, she had been taught not to trust so easily, which she didn't. But a lot of the time, it seemed to her that he went overboard on this cautiousness. It was more fear than wariness. At least there seemed to be a point in his friendships when he learnt he could place his life in someone else's hands, and the trust stayed like concrete, unmoving.

To see him smile and be able to tease like an old friend made him more of a man, and less of a hunter, much like how she herself wanted to appear more feminine. So there was a warm heart under all of the ice, and Draco knew that the same went for her.

If only she could say the same thing for Oshi…

She truthfully wished that she could, but any warmth he had within him he wasn't going to let show.

But now that she thought about it, it was a miracle that Hawk had even shown concern for Kyo.

x-x-x

As she woke, it took a few moments before Kyo remembered who she was, what had happened, and where she was. She half expected to find herself in the strong arms of Hawk, being carried across some unknown landscape.

But she lay on a squashy mattress in a strange cave. Her eyes swooped over the room, and memories from only a few hours previously came flooding back.

She thought back to her conversation with Taiken, and was not sure how to react to the suggestion. She was not looking forward to learning archery, but she had to admit that the prospect of being a fighting dancer was quite appealing. She could at least be of some help to Hawk and the others, for taking care of her.

However, the Comodo school of Music and Dance sounded quite snobby. She had heard of Comodo island, especially in holiday suggestions, as the town of enjoyment. It was situated in the south, west of Morroc, and not a long sail southeast from Lutie.

As for Taiken telling her to think about it, she didn't really think there was much to the deal other than accepting it, it being the best option for her. She had been good at dancing anyway; Comodo should be a piece of cake. Archery, on the other, she could tell would be entirely different. Archers and hunters made it look easy, but she was not strong like they were, and knew there was much more to it than picking up the arrow and holding it over the bow.

She half-heartedly rose to her feet, inwardly rejoicing when her legs supported her weight, and gave her limbs a satisfying stretch. She now felt fresh and clear, and for someone who had recently slept for days at a time and had barely moved, this was wonderful. She smiled at the sensation, and again surveyed the room she stood in. She then noticed at the foot of her bed a bundle of fabrics. On closer inspection, they turned out to be some kimonos.

She knew kimonos were fairly common in the midlands of Midgard, but they just weren't seen in Arie. She knelt in front of the pile, almost tentatively, as though they were robes of glass instead of silk. She delicately held the top one up; it was of the deepest imaginable midnight blue, almost black but distinctly sapphire in tone, and so beautifully soft. She immediately swapped her uniform for this dress, and admired the way it fell over the curves of her figure, flowing elegantly over her feet and made the lilac in her eyes all the more distinct. She pulled her long hair back into a sophisticated bun on the back of her head, leaving some shorter strands at the front to frame her fine face. Standing in this dress, she felt almost pretty.

She shook her head, trying to not be so vain. She thought maybe that she should go somewhere, but where? This place was a labyrinth. She decided to wait for one of the others to come and collect her.

She now realised that there was something else on her mind; she was supposed to be telling them what had happened in Arie, but now that she thought about it, she didn't even know what had happened (even if she was the only living witness, she thought with a grimace.) After she had come home that evening, all she could remember was speaking briefly with Mother, then going to bed. She knew she woke up sometime in the night, but she couldn't remember the rest. She knew that it was her own fault that she couldn't recall it; her mind wouldn't let her. And now she was frightened of disappointing the people who had been so kind to her.

She shook the thoughts out of her head, and re-seated herself on the edge of her new bed, with her hands in her lap, and waited.

x-x-x

"Someone's here! Someone's here!" exclaimed Ruriko, jumping up and down where she stood.

"Great. Give me that bow," replied Taiken, somewhat blandly, indicating to the weapon she had clasped in both hands.

She gave him a scowl, thrust the bow into Taiken's hands and pulled out her diary. She took a deep breath, slowly closed her eyes, and did a strange selection of movements with her arms, chanting under her breath. Taiken watched her right hand gracefully swishing through the air, her left hand clasping her little diary that was now sparkling and trailing pink dust through the atmosphere as Ruriko's spell progressed.

After a few moments, she left her hands in one place, like a blind man stumbling along, using his hands as his eyes.

But she abandoned her focus, her lips curved into a large, beaming smile.

"Chisel! Chisel is here!" she announced. Chisel was a blacksmith, and also a member of the God's Cry, but he spent a lot of his time travelling, as a lot of his work involved finding rare materials to both make and refine weapons. He had a little cart, which he wheeled with him to all places at all times, where he kept everything he might need.

"Wow…" breathed Taiken, smiling also. "How long has it been?"

"Long enough," she replied quickly. "Let's go greet him!" And with that, she seized his arm, and he found himself being steered with surprising strength towards the entrance of the caves.

Bursting overenthusiastically through the old wooden door, the duo ran into a rather bewildered Hawk, who was notching his bow and whispering to his falcon, who was hovering a few inches from it's master's face. He turned, ebony eyes wide.

"Anything I should know about?" he asked quite tentatively.

"Chisel is coming," explained Ruriko, who was excitedly hoping from one foot to the other. Ruriko looked forward to just about anything that wasn't negative, but especially Chisel's visits. He didn't suspect she was interested in him. But Chisel was always amiable and charming, and Taiken noticed how much she liked this positive attitude of his. Taiken also enjoyed Chisel's visits because of this, but Ruriko's emotions seemed inflated somehow, and she was not afraid of expressing them.

"Really?" replied Hawk. After a hesitant pause, he added, "That's nice." Taiken regarded him carefully for a brief moment; his expression was always difficult to read. Hawk could hide a lot of the emotion that he didn't want known. He was cold and defensive about Chisel as well. As for Chisel, the handsome blacksmith ignored this trait of Hawk's, and stayed jovial and friendly. He either ignored it, or he was one of the few optimistic people who looked for the best in a person rather than the negative or whatever was apparent on the surface.

"I should go out and get us some breakfast," said Hawk in barely more than a whisper.

"You hurry back then," replied Ruriko cheerfully, with a big smile over her face.

He nodded, and, with a small smile, turned to leave.

Taiken stared after him, then diverted his eyes to Ruriko, who was still bobbing up and down on the spot. She didn't seem to have noticed any tension on Hawk's part, but expecting Ruriko to notice something deep like that was asking a bit much.

"Have you ever tried reading minds?" he asked finally. To him, the silence was awkward.

"A couple of times. But so far, the only results I've managed to get are "positive thoughts" or "negative thoughts"," she replied, almost apologetically. "Why though?"

"You don't think that maybe it would be useful sometimes?"

"I suppose. But I'm not a telekinetic… pathic, even," she added quickly, giving a sheepish nod.

"You could sniff out a scheme, find out what's troubling someone…"

"If you're talking about Oshi," she interjected firmly. "He will tell us when he is ready."

"You could make it a lot easier for us."

"I could. But I don't think it would make things any better. Don't you think it would be better for Oshi that he found the courage to say what he has to say for himself, rather than us prying his thoughts? If he keeps stuff hidden from us, there must be some sort of reason."

"Have you ever thought about developing that power?"

"Yes, and I have tried. But it comes out a lot more like empathy. Did you ever hear that story about this guy who mastered empathy, and he could feel the emotions of everyone on Midgard?"

He shook his head.

"He couldn't handle it. He just felt too much at once, and he just kinda… wasted away."

She sighed, scratching the side of her head.

"I do realise that I'm quite powerful, and that does seem a little scary sometimes. And sometimes it feels like all this power shouldn't really have come to me, and maybe it should have been given to someone who is more cleverer, you know?"

Taiken couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he hoped that his shock was not too evident. He had never classed Ruriko as the deep and thoughtful type, but now she was the one telling him to learn to trust, something that was normally left to him as the group squabbled. But she was most certainly right, and now that he thought about it, reading minds would be an incredibly selfish power, the stuff of rogues and deceivers. He found a smile touching his lips, and raised his eyes to the slightly bewildered Ruriko.

"You're great the way you are," he began. He had a mind full of words of reassurance, but he couldn't place them in his mouth. He tried, however. He wasn't sure how to word it without sounding like he was trying to hit on her. "Anyone who thinks you're stupid has another coming for them. Sure, your forgetfulness nearly kills us sometimes, but you get there in the end. And before you say anything, your magic isn't your only gift."

He paused to check the effect of these words. Her eyes were shining, and the smile on her face made everything about her seem all the more innocent.

"You really think so?" she whispered.

"I know so," he replied. "I remember you told me once that your spells and your diary are what make you worthwhile." She nodded. "Well, it's the other way round," he stated. "And don't tell yourself otherwise."

She smiled all the sweeter. He'd told her what she needed to hear.

"Thanks Taiken," she breathed.

He nodded. "You too Ruriko."

It appeared to him to be a bit of a tender moment between the two, smiling into each other's eyes, and he felt the need to break it before something happened. He found himself afraid. He said he should go see if Kyo, Draco and Oshi were awake, and said Ruriko should wait for Chisel.

As he stepped on to the other side of the door, he felt almost drained. He wasn't sure why, and strode off in the direction of Draco's room. And he got lost a few times along the way…

x-x-x

Ruriko continued to smile, not sure if what had just happened was real or not. Taiken was a deep thinker, she knew, but it was not often that he shared his thoughts, and she considered it an honour that she should be the one to hear them. She felt relieved to show someone knew that she did, in fact, have some common sense, which other people were normally really snide about, smirking and calling her the ignorant one. She also felt elated; Taiken's well-chosen words were exactly what she needed to hear. She replayed the part about her being worthwhile in her head, and remembered to keep that moment close to her.

And she swelled inwardly with pride, remembering how she had taught him a valuable lesson too.

x-x-x

Hawk dawdled slightly as he trod over familiar soil. He felt glad at his opportunity to gather breakfast, as it at least gave him the solitude he would never attain living in the God's Cry, with five other very different people roaming and clashing with each other. He regarded the organization as a very unlikely group, but it didn't mean he wasn't happy about joining. In fact, he had discovered it to be the best choice he had ever made. Childhood friends had come and gone, his mother had left him, but the God's Cry were his true friends, and would not abandon him.

And Chisel would be visiting.

He didn't know Chisel very well, but saw that he was indeed cheerful and pleasant, with a broad grin, messy blonde hair with a boyish cap seated soundly on his head. He had once given Hawk a bow that he had made himself; in fact, Hawk now held the bow in his right arm, notched and ready to kill. It was certainly an excellent weapon, a lot better than could be bought in any shop or even made by Hawk himself. He had accepted it with a humble bow, telling himself not to trust. He was cautious of Chisel, not sure whether the congeniality was genuine or not. He sometimes went into battle with them, and it was indeed an honour to fight alongside him.

A lot of the time, he was there to drop off a few belongings, or money. And he always bought back souvenirs, which was actually quite cute. But it reminded Hawk of how little time Chisel spent at the God's Cry, and he always held this image of a man who was going on holiday to his house, and who went home to his holiday destination.

He absent-mindedly shot two arrows at a wolf, which he now leapt over to and swung over his back. He looked around; the scenery was quite green, and looked almost like the place his mother had taken them to when he was just a boy.

They would often go for picnics and other such things to a place she called the Ash Grove. For Hawk, this was the single most beautiful place on Midgard. The rivers flowed silver and clear, and the endless bright speckles of little colourful flowers immersed the lush, ripe green grass. The trees grew tall and thick, their wood dark and their foliage deep green. Butterflies fluttering magnificently, birdsong filled the air and the stray petals of a thousand flowers soared on the wind's white wings. A night in the Ash Grove was spent stargazing, the day sunbathing, and the sunrise and sunset set the very skies on fire, the air turning amber, the crickets singing and fireflies pretending to be fairies encircled the pasture. Hawk had often turned to his mother and asked why they couldn't live there to watch the sky with the grass in their toes. His mother had only smiled and held him close.

One day, Hawk came running home from Payon, eager to see his mother, and tell her how she was right and he was able to fire the arrow after he focused and believed in himself and he would now train hard as an archer and he had done well at Payon and his teachers were proud of him. He ran to his door, having not seen his mother for months, beaming and eager to run to the Ash Grove where they would have all the time in the world to stare into the skies. But Mother was not home. He ran through the village, called her. "Where is Mother?" he asked. "She now sleeps under the green turf of the lonely Ash Grove," they replied sombrely.

Hawk hadn't understood those words until now. She had left him was what he had told himself, and he didn't know how else to feel. He was so confused now. He shook his head, trying to stay focused. Readjusting the dead wolf hanging limply over his shoulder, he started back to the God's Cry, wiping his eyes on his sleeves as he went, and Alder looming above him.

x-x-x

"Hey Draco," called Taiken from the entrance of their dojo. She looked up from her training, lowering her katars and wiping her forehead. "Chisel's on his way over. He should be arriving any minute now."

"Really?" she said, latching the weapons off her hands and sheathing them. "Great!"

She slipped a robe over her loose-fitting fighting garb and strode out of the dojo after Taiken.

"Let's just go get Miss Sleepy head and Mr Happiness," he said as they started off down the corridors.

Draco giggled, not sure how else to reply to this.

"So will Kyo's story have to wait?" she asked instead.

"No," mused Taiken simply. "In fact, I think it might even be better if Chisel were here to listen as well."

"I guess," she remarked. "Do you think Chisel will bring us new weapons?"

"Wouldn't doubt it. That's a Chisel tradition; he never comes here empty handed. He'd be pushing himself to improve on the last batch."

She turned for a moment to smile at him. She thought of the daggers sheathed at her side; they were of course, a Chisel original. The metal used to forge it was a mixture of many different metals, most of which were unknown substances, unknown even to Chisel. She knew one of the metals was emperium, the strongest metal on Midgard. It was also the heaviest, but Chisel had told them with a grin that a few wizards in Geffen had taken care of that, and they were therefore as light as air. It had taken a few days to adjust to them, not feeling the satisfying weight of sharpened metal, or the hefty impact as they struck a target. She had felt almost vulnerable, feeling their lightness, as though she was wielding paper, but over time they became perfectly suited for her.

"I suddenly realize I could have got Chisel to make a bow for Kyo; I didn't need to get Ruriko to find one," commented Taiken, almost whiney.

"That's a point," said Draco. "If Kyo decides to go to Comodo, you need to ask her which weapon she's going to use: whip… chakrams… whatever..."

"Is that what those things are called?" he asked with a frown. "I just called them funny bladed hoop thingies…"

She laughed, wondering why Taiken didn't know that much. "Why do some dancers use chakrams instead of whips?"

"Well some dancers think the whips a little too… kinky. Especially with those _revealing_ outfits they sometimes wear. There are very few dancers who hold that sentiment though. It isn't just chakrams, you know… short swords, instruments, some go entirely with a bow… I reckon Kyo will choose the funny bladed hoop thingies…"

She affectionately nudged him in the side, both of them laughing. It was cut back to a grin though, as they reached Kyo's door.

"You knock first."

"Nope. You first."

"Oldest first."

"Ladies first."

They stood there for a minute longer, smirking at each other, like little kids.

"Why are we arguing about this?" Draco asked, grinning like a fool. It was, indeed, a childish argument over a childish nothing.

"Heh. Let's just knock."

Kyo answered the door within a second of the first knock. She peered anxiously at them for a moment, then smiled benignly. She looked incredibly elegant, wearing the deep blue kimono and copper hair pulled back.

"Should I change into my uniform, Taiken sir?" she asked warily.

"No. You have to meet Chisel first." She tilted her head and blinked, confused. "A blacksmith. He's another member of the God's Cry."

She nodded knowingly. "Are there any other members who weren't here when I arrived?"

"No. I wouldn't count the sages at Yuno, as they can't come in and out freely, but we do work quite closely with them. He isn't here often. He spends a lot of time travelling."

Kyo nodded again, and stepped humbly outside into the caves. "Where is Oshi?"

"We're going to go get him now."

x-x-x

Oshi concealed himself in his room, hoarding his emotions. He thought maybe that he should feel angry at losing his argument yesterday, but he didn't. Keeping everything hidden was wreaking havoc with his own mind, and he no longer felt the strength to be angry. His body was well and alive, but his feelings were on the brink of death. He found that, instead of giving Taiken a fierce glare when suggesting something was wrong with him, he had nodded. He couldn't keep anything hidden for much longer. He realised that his emotions were dangerous. Sometimes he could just brood it off, but it was becoming more difficult.

But whom would he talk freely with? Taiken probably wouldn't take him seriously, and he had lost too much to Taiken. Not necessarily material things, it was just the way Taiken could put an end to his arguments in a heartbeat. Ruriko wouldn't understand, being the stupid young brat that she was. Hawk was just almost as cold and untrusting as he was. That Kyo girl seemed too innocent to comprehend anything deep and meaningful, and he had only met her yesterday.

The God's Cry were indeed the only people who had ever counted him as a friend, no matter how cold and coarse he appeared. It was nice to know that they were there, but he was somewhat scared of his emotions and how others would react to them.

He had been running long enough, and now he was exhausted.

There was a knock at the door, jolting his senses back to his body, making his heart miss a few beats and taking the breath out of his lungs. He stared anxiously at the door, then realised that he needn't fear whatever it was on the other side.

"Hey Oshi," called Taiken through the door. "Chisel's here. You're coming down to see him, right?"

Oshi nodded, then remembered that people can't hear a nod. He attempted to place a smile over his features, wondering if he would look genuinely happy or menacing. He tried now to not worry, and instead sidled to the door, yanking it open with half-hearted hands.

Taiken stood grinning broadly, Draco next to him, smiling serenely, and Kyo behind them, almost like she was hiding.

"Sure. Why not."

He noted quickly that they were pleasantly surprised at his new not sharp attitude, as there seemed to be a slight sigh of relief rippling over the trio in front of him. Kyo was even contented enough to walk alongside him.

"Kyo, have you thought about what I told you?" asked Taiken.

"Yes, Taiken sir," she replied, somewhat obediently. "I thought it might be best for me if I were to go to the Comodo school."

"Good," said Taiken, turning to smile at her. "So me and Hawk will teach you how to use a bow. Have you thought about which weapon you will use?"

"I don't know which weapons are available to active dancers."

"Whips or chakrams."

"Ooh, you didn't call it a funny bladed hoop thingy," interjected Draco benignly.

"So… a chakram is obviously a funny bladed hoop thingy…" said Kyo.

"Chakrams are a pair of bladed rings," explained Draco. "We'll get Chisel to forge whichever you choose."

"Chakrams, I guess…" Kyo remarked, after a slight pause. Oshi watched Taiken give Draco a satisfied, I-told-you-so look, but didn't bother asking about. It was probably easier that way.

To be honest, he couldn't see Kyo using a whip; it just didn't seem very… her. Definitely not her style.

But all too soon, they stood in front of the entrance to the entrance, and were striding inside.

"There you all are," said a friendly voice. "Where's Hawk?"

"Getting breakfast," explained Draco. "How are you Chisel?" she said, crossing the room to give him a hug.

"Yo Draco," he replied, smiling his boyish smile. He reached into his cart quickly and drew out a little black stone on a silver chain. "For you. It's called a shadow stone in our language. It has a different name in the Language of the Making that doesn't sound so corny. There used to be a guild of assassins who could become the very shadows, and the shadow stone was their avatar. It is long lost knowledge, but imagine being able to move through and be the shadows like that!"

"Aw… Chisel, you shouldn't have!" She lifted her hair up, and slipped her new pendant around her neck. "It's so pretty!" she breathed, holding it close to her face, eyes fixed on its misty black lustre.

"Hey," whined Ruriko, still hopping from one foot to the other. "Where's mine?"

Chisel laughed, and handed her some rosary beads.

"I found them in the old abandoned temple in Gonryon. I did a few checks, and all the monks in said there was nothing wrong with them. When I told them who I intended to give them to, they all blessed it."

"They did? They know who I am?" she asked, pleasantly flattered and baffled.

"Of course! Don't you know that the Professor Akiro visits often? And he does have a bit of a soft spot for you," he explained, presenting Ruriko with her new necklace. She held it delicately in both hands, examining it carefully with a little girl's smile on her face. The beads were pale pink in hue, but they had an almost pearly sheen. It was evident that she adored them, and she threw them around her neck. The necklace was so long that the elegant cross in the middle fell all the way down to her belly.

"Taiken, how are you my friend?" Chisel now turned to Taiken, tipping the childish cap on his head. The pair shook hands and embraced like brothers.

"Good, good. You're not out of shiny jewellery now, are you?"

"I don't think so. But I do have something for you…" He now bent over his cart again, bringing out a misty silver flute. "Oridecon flute. You can use it as a weapon, but honestly, I was hoping you would just use it for leisurely playing. I haven't heard you play the flute in quite a while."

Taiken lifted his gift to his lips and blew into it; the note was soft and smooth, and spread a feeling of warmth through the room.

"Any blessings on it?" asked Taiken with a smile.

"Maybe," admitted Chisel, grinning. Oshi inwardly panicked; he was next. "Oshi, how have you been?" He automatically stepped forward to shake hands, which Oshi did somewhat tentatively. _Well, that wasn't so bad_, he thought to himself. But he wasn't sure how his crude nature would handle his gift. He nodded when he realised that he hadn't answered Chisel.

"Have something special for you too," he said. When he emerged from selecting items from his cart, he had two things clutched in his hand: a little black bag and a small slightly grubby leather bound book. "It tells you how to use them inside. That was a gift from the monks in Gonryun."

Oshi nodded, and again realised that he had to make some sort of reply. "Thank you, Chisel," he uttered, somewhat awkwardly. It was good enough for Chisel though, who smiled and told him it was no big deal.

"Chisel, meet our newest edition to the God's Cry," announced Taiken, steering Kyo to the front of the crowd. "This is Kyo. And she's going to become an active dancer."

Chisel bowed politely and smiled, introducing himself. "I'm pretty sure I can find something in here for you…" Kyo made a little noise, as though about to protest, but Taiken still had his hands on her shoulders, so she kept quiet. "Aha!" he proclaimed, drawing out a small bead on a chain. "An earring. I got loads of magical stuff from the monks in Gonryun, and I think we can thank Ruriko for that." He shot Ruriko a grin, and placed the earring in Kyo's hand. "You know how monks call spirits and use them in their spells? Well, they've done something like that; I got lost sometime during the explanation, but there is a spirit in there, not one you can speak with, but one that will protect or help you find your way or something good like that. I think at that point in the conversation, they were just trying to confuse me."

Kyo muttered the words "thank you" an uncountable number of times whilst bowing. Oshi was now convinced that her good manners would one day get her into trouble.

He had never himself seen anyone in a fight get into trouble for good manners, but he had heard it had happened. There was no one in the God's Cry who would let that happen, not even Taiken. Oshi had heard people describing the way he was during a fight, and it went along the lines of lunatic, maniac, out of control, savage… and such was his reputation as a killer. He just couldn't see the point of showing mercy for something he was intent on killing. On the other hand, neither did Draco, but she had an air of patience and stillness about her, even on the battlefield. He now realised his weakness: his impulsive nature. And he knew it had let him down several times in the past.

x-x-x

Chisel regarded the friends he had not seen for some months. They weren't all that different. Draco stood casually against the wall, Ruriko prancing on the spot, Taiken smiling amiably and Oshi brooding in the corner. The only thing that was missing was a Hawk brooding in the other corner, feeding his falcon. And now there was Kyo, stood nervously in front of Taiken, fastening his gift onto her ear with a grateful smile.

"How did you get here then?" he asked curiously. Her eyes widened slightly, and gave him an almost pleading look. But Taiken was quick off the mark.

"She'll be telling us that when Hawk gets back," he said, then turning to her for confirmation. "Right?"

She nodded hesitantly, probably not sure how else to react, and Chisel began to regret the question.

"So, Chisel, do you think you could forge us a pair of good chakrams?" asked Taiken to ease the silence.

"Sure thing," replied Chisel with a tip of his cap. "But I'd like to get an idea of the way Kyo fights, so that I can make a pair that suits her."

"Aren't they just all the same?" Taiken replied bewilderedly, scratching the side of his head.

"Of course not." Chisel frowned; he would have regarded a concept such as this as common sense. But then, Taiken didn't need to know this stuff, so, knowing him, he was probably just making the most of it. "If she feels more comfortable using horizontal swipes, I can engineer to that. Or maybe she's quicker than most, maybe she prefers stabbing or dismemberment… I could go on, but I would like start her on a short sword first."

Kyo looked terrified at the idea.

"Here," he said, reaching into his cart and finding a sword known as a "sucsamad." It had a thin blade with sharp edges. It was used by desert dwellers who lived in tribes, for just about everything; eating, catching food, hunting, and other such essential tasks. She accepted this gift warily, and clasped it in both hands rather than sheath it on her belt. He thought for a moment that he should ask her about this, but then thought the concept of questioning whatever she did with her weapons nosy and somehow stupid.

"So a little something to eat then a little toasting of a few random monsters?" asked Draco with her cynical smile.

"Sure. Why not."

"So, who's going where?" said Oshi quietly from his corner. Chisel turned to Taiken, as did Draco, Ruriko and Kyo.

"Well, Hawk and I will go to Comodo," began Taiken. "For some reason, the school needs notice before it takes on new students," he explained, as though this were a ridiculous concept. "Draco and Ruriko should go to Yuno, see if the sage guild know anything. Oshi and Chisel go train Kyo some."

"Sounds good," agreed Draco.

"And Hawk's back!" announced Ruriko. And sure enough, Hawk stepped elegantly through the door. "Back to the main hall anyone who isn't cooking!"

Smiling slightly, Hawk abandoned his prey on Draco, who swung it deftly over her shoulder and went off to the kitchen with Ruriko.

x-x-x

"As long as Ruriko is only responsible for the cooking fire, I will eat it willingly," stated Taiken firmly.

"What's that meant to mean?" Ruriko replied sharply.

"That you're a terrible cook, Ruriko," said Draco, beckoning her sister to follow her.

"Sis! You're supposed to be taking my side!" whined Ruriko as they set off for the kitchen.

"I take the side of truth."

"That's not true though! Hey! Get back here!"

Hawk couldn't hear whatever it was Taiken and Chisel muttered under their breath simultaneously, but it sounded oddly like, "Women…"

"Hey Hawk," said Taiken. "You and I have to go to Comodo to speak with the teachers at the school."

Knowing there was no point in protesting about it, Hawk nodded.

"I'm not sure that you've been Comodo before…" Taiken mused.

"No," was the simple reply.

"Ah… Try to be nice, and if any of the girls try hitting on you, tell them you're married."

"But I'm-"

"They will try, they don't go investigating your marital status, and it does work."

"I suppose you speak from experience Taiken," laughed Chisel, smiling warmly at his friend. Taiken only replied with his usual cheeky grin.

21


	3. A Few Journeys

_A Few Journeys_

"So what is this change all about?" Taiken asked from the top of the table, more to himself than anyone else.

The little troop assumed their seats in the main hall at a long, oaken table, awaiting their breakfast. Kyo now realised just how hungry she was, and she knew that Hawk probably hadn't eaten much for the last couple of weeks or so. She was immediately sorry for Hawk, and regret piled up inside; it was her fault, after all.

"Do you reckon we should go yell at them to hurry up?" laughed Taiken.

"Is it true that Draco uses her daggers when she's preparing her food?" asked Chisel. Kyo giggled, then realised he was being totally serious. She couldn't force back the smile though.

"Yeah," replied Taiken with a hearty laugh. "She tried to teach Ruriko how to cut potatoes with her daggers."

At that very moment, Ruriko came skidding into the room, saying, "Breakfast will be up shortly. Our chef is working particularly fast today."

"Hey Ruriko, can you get Draco up here and show us how she would cut potatoes?" said Taiken, grinning.

"Um… _what_!"

"No big deal, we just want to see," Chisel assured her. Bewildered, Ruriko spun around and trotted obediently back to the kitchen.

Within a minute, Draco emerged. She looked quite comical, with a slightly burnt apron tied over her fighting garb and her daggers held healthily in her hands. Ruriko jogged in with a chopping board in her hand and several potatoes levitating behind her, which dropped out of the air onto the chopping board as soon as it was placed on the table.

"OK… I have no idea why I'm doing this, but oh well…" Draco sighed as she stood ready and poised in front of her vegetables. "Wind spell, please Ruriko."

"_Shiri osiiku stai_!" yelled Ruriko, raising her arms over her head and the air lilting with the words (as it did with all spells). It was a fairly amusing scene; the potatoes were thrown into the air, and Draco began to swipe the blades through in seemingly eight directions at once, so fast it was impossible to tell what she was doing.

After a couple of seconds, both Draco and Ruriko relaxed, and shortly after, the potatoes fell in finely sliced wedges onto the chopping board.

Kyo sat dumb, wondering if she was imagining this or not, and turned to the others for reassurance. Hawk was staring wide-eyed at the spectacle, Oshi was frowning, and Taiken and Chisel were grinning so broadly, it looked as though their smiles would fall off their faces.

"Happy?" asked Draco, grinning back. She gathered the chopping board and the food and set off back to the kitchen, Ruriko skipping behind her.

Kyo stared somewhat blankly after them, then withdrew her thoughts to her own mind; they would expect to hear her speak, but she didn't know if what she had to say would be good enough for them. She suspected that they were expecting some kind of groundbreaking story that would completely change the way they ran their lives, but all she could offer was fragmented memories, poorly told. She sighed quietly to herself; as long as she told them everything she knew, they should think that fine.

She looked up to survey the people whom she was sure she would disappoint. Taiken was listening to Chisel telling him about his own life threatening experience, which he seemed to regard as a huge joke. Oshi watched them warily. Hawk was actually watching herself, with wide concerned eyes; she tried her best give him a reassuring smile, but she didn't entirely trust her own mouth. But when Hawk looked relieved, she figured it had worked and waited in silence for Draco and Ruriko to return.

Kyo felt the familiar nagging of time failing to pass; it seemed so long that she sat there, waiting. She tried listening to Taiken and Chisel laughing together, but only a low buzzing was heard from their mouths, forming sounds in no language in particular. Hawk and Oshi remained still, left in their own thoughts. She now felt totally separate from them, as though they were a different species, left alone in a dank eternity, as Draco and Ruriko did not return with breakfast.

"Kyo, are you sure you're OK?" asked Hawk suddenly.

She felt herself startle and tense, and hesitantly turned to the speaker. She considered nodding, maybe try a reassuring smile, but she heard herself say, "Not really, Hawk sir."

He gave a slight nod, and Kyo noticed the room fall quiet.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait a little while more before telling us what happened?" said Taiken, quite quietly. She searched his voice for hints of sarcasm or tease, but it was clean. She felt a rush of gratitude to both Hawk and Taiken, Hawk for knowing something was wrong, Taiken for taking it seriously, the latter of which she hadn't expected, observing his attitude.

"No," she sighed simply. "I think it may be best I tell you all quickly, so as not to waste your time. It's just that…" She took in a deep breath, and blinked away tears that she didn't realise had been welling up in her eyes. "I can't remember a lot of it."

It felt such a relief to let it go, and now that it had passed, she wondered briefly why she had dreaded it.

"Is that so bad?" replied Oshi, genuinely confused. Kyo began to feel confused also; she didn't know these people, and all she knew of their character was what she had seen within a brief few hours and Hawk's descriptions. But they now seemed to be showing different faces, as though they had a different mask for every occasion. But it wasn't a mask; it was just how they handled the situations thrust at them.

"I was… frightened," she answered, somewhat awkwardly. "That maybe you would not be satisfied by only fragments of the ordeal."

"You were the sole survivor of the "attack" on Arie, at least, I'm assuming it was an attack," stated Taiken. She made a little noise of approval, not trusting her head to move. "As long as you tell us what you know, then that's definitely good enough for us."

The others made it heard that they agreed, and smiled. She felt her tense muscles soften and her lips curve into a smile also. It wasn't so bad after all.

Chisel fired into another of his own stories, but this time, Kyo could listen.

x-x-x

"Breakfast has arrived!" sang Ruriko, with a large pewter bowl levitating almost precariously behind her. "Stew!"

The dish hovered delicately to the centre of the table, landing with a slight thud.

"Ruriko," called Draco as she came striding into the hall. "As much as you like announcing breakfast, you forgot the bowls and cutlery again."

"Oh…" mused Ruriko as Draco began handing round bowls and chopsticks. Hawk caught a slightly bemused glanced from Kyo.

"You didn't use chopsticks in Arie, did you?" He felt he needed to ask.

"No," she replied earnestly, trying to fit them around her fingers. "The meat is not normally cut into such small pieces. The animals are too large."

"Yeah, you get some pretty big nasties way up north," said Chisel.

"Nasties," said Oshi incredulously. He frowned almost impatiently at the childish word. Chisel poked his tongue at him.

"Oh," exclaimed Ruriko, leaping forward. "Let me show you the fine arts of chopstick use, _Résaku_!"

"_Résaku_?"

"Language of the Making word, isn't it?" said Taiken, sheepishly scratching his head.

"It just means ' big sister'," explained Ruriko. If anyone was taken aback by this, they either didn't show it, or Ruriko ignored it. She set herself busy showing Kyo how to wield the chopsticks, arranging her fingers and manoeuvring her hands.

"Hawk, you're having first pickings," announced Draco, filling a pure white bowl with hot, mouth-watering stew. Hawk stared at his food, amazed that it was in front of him. He couldn't ignore the emptiness in his stomach, since he hadn't eaten for over a week. He tried in vain to exercise some self-control, but instead descended ravenously upon his meal.

Paying no attention to how he ate or what was going into his mouth, he almost felt his life being replenished, as though he were resting, recovering. Draco served the others, but stood over him, waiting to replenish his bowl.

"Meat! Meat! Meat!" Ruriko would exclaim between mouthfuls, who was incessantly cramming food into her mouth.

"I would have thought that you would have meat everyday," mused Kyo, looking up from her breakfast. Hawk noted that she kept her manners as she ate, maybe because her own nature wouldn't allow her to plunge into a meal the way he had, or maybe because she was still getting used to the chopsticks.

"When Hawk is here," said Taiken. "I'm not a particularly good hunter."

"We've been living off vegetables for the past couple of weeks," explained Draco.

"I did so like the way you tried to make it interesting," he laughed.

"I thought that was sheer brilliance!" Ruriko declared, standing up and raising her chopsticks in the air in a mock-imploring tone, slender body stretched in full height. Hawk was surprised to see that Ruriko was incredibly skinny. He'd always known she was slim, but he didn't know why he hadn't noticed it like this before. Perhaps it was just seeing her stretched out, and her ribs were visible, little oval shadows over pale, sparsely freckled skin.

She plopped back down into her place, with the others laughing.

"How do you make vegetables interesting?" asked Kyo, smile still evident.

"Well, there was the carrot totem poles," replied Draco, leaving her chopsticks to count with her fingers. "The radishes with the faces, that strange pea shooting game, the flowering cauliflowers, the flaming torch parsnip show…"

"And would you believe that Ruriko was the one who dreamt up all of those," scoffed Taiken sarcastically.

"Hey, you forgot the hut," protested Ruriko. "Do you know how long I spent on that picket fence?"

Chisel snorted into his stew, and everyone continued to devour the delicious mixture. Having consumed the contents of the large pewter dish, the guild sat back to enjoy the effect of their meal.

x-x-x

"Kyo, anything you want to say?" said Taiken leisurely. Kyo picked up the hint, and began talking, keeping her voice to a lifeless monotone.

Taiken listened gravely, still not sure if his previous reassurance was enough to make Kyo's task as simple as wording a sentence. But it was more than words; it was almost as though something was being extracted from her, and it would leave her exhausted at the end. He had never had to make such a recital, but he had seen it with Ruriko, telling him about when she was almost expelled from Yuno academy of Magic.

"It started with the Clock Tower, I'm certain. I could tell there was something strange about it. I started avoiding walking past it in the dark, but that… _feeling_ just got stronger, then I stayed clear of it all the time."

"You sensed that something was wrong with the place?" gabbled Ruriko suddenly, looking up from the notes she was making in her diary. "Have you had magical training? Did you say anything to anyone else? Did anyone else notice the aura of the clock tower? What colour did you see?"

Taiken was about to protest and let Kyo continue into the attentive silence, but Kyo stopped, her eyes fixed on one place, not focused on anything.

"Yes; no; no; I do not think so; and red," she answered simply.

"OK, thank you, _Résaku_," said Ruriko, rapidly recording what was just spoken. "Please continue."

Kyo nodded to the air in front of her. "I knew something bad would happen, and I knew it was around the Clock Tower, but I was scared to say. I tried to sleep a bit, but I woke up in the middle of the night. I ran out of my house, and Arie was burning. They… destroyed it. They killed the townspeople. Everyone I'd known. They'd destroyed it all."

Her monotonous voice shook with grief as she uttered the words, and she now swayed where she sat.

"But you escaped?" asked Ruriko.

"Yes. I just ran."

"You didn't encounter anything?"

"Kind of. A very strange monster. I've never seen one like it before. It looked almost like a giant clock crossed with an old man."

There was an uneasiness around the table now, and everyone turned to Ruriko, hoping she would have something to say again.

"But… if that is true, then… well, it couldn't be right…" stammered Ruriko, her eyes wide, and her forehead creased in a quizzical frown. "If those monsters you saw are the same ones I'm thinking about, they are man made."

The uneasiness became tense and still. This couldn't be right! Monsters couldn't be… made. They were living, breathing things, so they had to be born not made.

"How can that be possible?" said Draco, her worried, confused frown identical to her sister's.

"I have heard of the Clock Tower in Arie, and there are loads of stories made up about it," explained Ruriko. Her arms were folded, and Taiken now saw a totally different part of her personality; it was rare that she became unflinchingly serious and focused. "No one knows who built it; they say it was the work of dark wizards. If there was a weird aura around it like Kyo said, then it was definitely some kind of magic. Another thing I am wondering is how Kyo sensed what was going to happen, but Clock Tower first.

"They say a guild of powerful dark wizards and priests and necromancers and people like that made a meeting place, like we did with these caves. So they built the Clock Tower, and they lived in it. They said they did experiments and other nasty things in there, and some people say that they even wanted to cover the land in darkness and have Midgard kneel before them. It sounds silly, but I think there may even be some truth behind it.

"I think those monsters Kyo saw were the maybe the products of the dark wizards' magic or experiments or whatever they did in there, and they've been locked up in there for years. And now they've broken out."

"I'm sorry, Kyo," said Taiken, not wishing to leave the pause to boil them. "I think we're going to have to go back to Arie at some point."

Kyo nodded. Taiken didn't want to be the one to drag her back to her "home" nor did he like being the bearer of bad news. But what he would really dislike was leaving it to someone else. He figured it was part of his job as the peacekeeper of the group. She at least had the grace to accept the idea without complaint.

"Well, we at least have to find out as much as we can about the Clock Tower, but first Kyo needs to be all trained up," interjected Ruriko. "You have never had any magical training, you said Kyo?"

"None."

"Did you learn any dances that involved chanting? Because technically, that would be magic."

"No. We only learnt the basic steps."

"I wonder how it is that you can sense things…"

"I could only sense the feel of the Clock Tower," stated Kyo, turning her gaze to the side of her, almost as though she were ashamed.

"You couldn't walk past it?"

"It was so cold. I tried, telling myself it was just an old clock tower, but when I tried to walk, I froze."

"Learning the dances at Comodo should be a breeze for you then."

"I have magical talent?"

"Yes. It is not often that humans are so sensitive to these things. A mage or an acolyte's sense ability requires deep concentration, and all the chants do is translate the images already received by the caster. Everyone has a sensitivity to some things to a certain degree, but to have it in such amounts is rare," explained Ruriko.

"But my mother cared too much for music, and so I learnt dance instead of magic…" sighed Kyo wistfully.

Taiken sighed inwardly, although he didn't know why. For some reason, his mind felt challenged and consequently he was tired.

"Oshi, Chisel, you guys will be helping Kyo train," he began; it wasn't that he enjoyed being bossy or that the others had elected him leader, it was just that he seemed to hold some kind of authority above the rest. "Draco, Ruriko, you'll be going to Yuno to speak with the Masters. Hawk and I will set off for Comodo."

"I say we give ourselves three weeks," said Draco, rising from her seat. "And I suggest that Hawk and Taiken sail from Aldebaran, and not Lutie to get to Comodo."

"I see what you mean," he mused, with a satisfied smile. "I say preparations to depart be made tomorrow."

And with that, each member rose solemnly from their place, and dispersed.

x-x-x

Hawk trailed back to his room, not sure on what to make of the journey that lay ahead of him. It seemed now that he never had a moment to relax; he would depart, exhaust his energy, return, recharge and then be departing again. His body told him that the journey would be fine, but he also felt a part of his subconscious screaming in protest, wanting to conserve his energy for just a little while longer.

He thought that he should at least make the most of a day when he could break the cycle, even if it were just for a short while.

"Comodo's a nice place," a voice behind him told him. "I'm fairly certain you will think so, at least."

Taiken strafed forward to walk alongside Hawk, taking the latter slightly by surprise.

"Good job on rescuing Kyo," Taiken continued amiably. He paused to check for a reaction, but Hawk did his best to remain passive. "Would you have done something like that for just anyone?"

Hawk felt his eyes widen and his limbs tense. He automatically kept his legs moving, in jagged stiff movements. He didn't know what Taiken meant by his question, and therefore didn't know how to react. He instead turned and frowned.

"Come on, you know what I mean," laughed his companion. "You can tell me."

"Taiken, I have no idea what you're talking about," stated Hawk flatly, feeling his patience ebbing away.

"I bet you do." Taiken was swift with his reply and turned almost menacingly on Hawk, forcing him to subconsciously step back. "But you don't want to admit it, even to yourself."

Taiken was now grinning broadly, in his usual friendly manner. But it still seemed very intimidating to Hawk, very aware now of the wall behind him. The smile seemed more like a leer, and he could almost feel Taiken's eyes boring into him. He stared back defiantly, praying to himself that he actually didn't understand what was being asked.

Thankfully, Taiken drew back. "You'll have to tell me one day, maybe within the next three weeks." And he strode down the passageway in a different direction.

Great, thought Hawk. I'm going to enjoy every bloody minute of this trip; irritating girls hitting on me left and right, and Taiken bugging me about this… thing.

In a foul mood, he prowled back to his room, reaching his destination a little too quickly.

x-x-x

"OK, we need baths," said Ruriko, hopping along behind Draco and Kyo. Draco turned to Kyo, who was smiling; she was thrilled at the idea. She hated the feeling of being dirty, covered in a layer of grime and accumulating filth.

"I'll show you to the bath," offered Draco. "Ruriko, you don't think you could get us some towels, could you?"

Her usual hyperactive self now back in her skin, Ruriko gave a small salute and trotted off.

"Oh, I feel disgusting," whispered Draco in contempt, staring at her hands. Little black lines of dirt had gathered in the folds in her skin, and she refused to look at her nails.

"I must be pretty disgusting myself," agreed Kyo, hands clasped in front of her. "May I ask where you were born, miss Draco?"

Draco looked slightly taken aback at this question, but Kyo felt almost as though Draco owed her that much, telling her something about herself, now that she had explained what had happened on the night she could barely remember. In fact, the telling of her tale was not as bad as she thought it would be. She had kept any emotions at bay, and the God's Cry didn't seem to think of her any differently; they were still the same kind people they were before. She had almost been afraid that they would maybe neglect her, or even that they might regard her as something fragile that would shatter at the slightest touch. But in actuality, it was a great relief to be able to talk about her experience, and it felt as though an intolerable weight had been lifted from her heart.

"In Morroc," was the simple reply. Draco left the reply hanging over the air, almost asking to be questioned further.

"Is that where you became an assassin?"

"Yes."

"If that is the case, why is Ruriko not an assassin?"

"Because our parents were control freaks. And plus, spell casting was the one thing Ruriko had an incredible talent for, so no one could really see her becoming anything else."

"Would they not allow you to do as you wanted?" asked Kyo, almost appalled.

"No," sighed Draco. "I think one of the only reasons I became an assassin is because it was the one thing they would really hate. I hated my parents so much then, that I don't remember the time so well. I… fell in with the wrong crowd, you could say. They resented the way I led my life, and some of the time, I couldn't understand why. I just hated the contempt they carried for me, and I really wanted to show them that I could do my own thing, it was my life to lead, and there was nothing they could do. They haven't seen me since-…"

She trailed, her eyes wide, realising she had said too much.

Kyo didn't push it. Instead, she shared her own feelings. "It was mainly my mother's idea that I learn to do dance, but I did not even think to go against it; she loved me, and I trusted her. I knew she only wanted the best for me, so I never questioned what she said."

Draco nodded, politely quiet. "Do you sing?"

"Yes. My father used to like hearing it. I sang at his burial, but that was the last time…"

Kyo felt oddly stuck in the moment, voicing thoughts she had never examined herself to a woman she had known for a day. But she could almost a feel some kind of bond forming between the two, and inwardly rejoiced because of it.

"Here we are," announced Draco with a smile. She beckoned Kyo forward and began parting the seemingly thousands of crimson veils. Making her way through the waves of red, Kyo emerged into a handsome gold-lit circular room with what looked like a small lake in the middle. There was a rack in the entrance with space for clothes and towels. The scarlet veils adorned walls in here, and there was a panelled wooden wall cutting the room short at the far end. Now examining the bath itself more closely, she noticed it was a natural hot spring.

A rustling noise behind her caught her attention, and she whirled around. It was only Draco. But she was now stepping out of her clothes. Kyo felt immediately awkward, not sure whether she should be here or not. She began to panic when she realised that she would have to do the same.

Draco must have sensed something, because she peered over her shoulder as she raised her hands to untie her hair. "Don't worry. I guess I should just say get used to it, because you're going to be with us for a very long time."

Nodding, Kyo nervously loosened her belt and slipped out of her robe.

"You'll feel better once you're in the water," spoke Draco from behind her, and was rather surprised to feel Draco started letting her hair down for her. Kyo thought she felt herself flinch as Draco's bare arm brushed against the now vulnerable skin on her shoulder. She felt her hair touch the small of her back, which she would normally have not noticed as much, but she felt oddly conspicuous and somehow alert in her nakedness.

Kyo's tense legs carried her into the water, where she sank gratefully, feeling her susceptibility fade and her body cleansed. With her eyes just above the surface, she glanced over at Draco, who was leaning back casually as though there were no one else in the world but her. Kyo now noted just how very tanned Draco was, realising that her own pale skin was a bit out of place.

"How is it that you are so tanned, Draco?" she dared to ask.

Draco laughed, then turned her narrow eyes to Kyo. "You've never been Morroc before, have you?"

"No. In fact, the furthest south I have gone is Prontera."

"Well, other than Gonryun, Morroc and Comodo are the furthest south you will get. Comodo is a tropical island and Morroc is right in the middle of a desert."

Kyo subconsciously ran her fingers through her hair as it flowed through the water, blushing bright and brilliant.

"You would be considered a real find in Morroc," continued Draco. "I don't think I have ever seen anyone pale there."

At that moment, Ruriko came bounding into the room, vivid white towels clutched firmly in her slim arms.

"Wow… you talking about home, Sis?" said Ruriko as she placed the towels in the rack.

"Well, we have to start somewhere now, don't we?" replied Draco smoothly.

"Fair enough," sighed Ruriko as she hopped out of her robe and practically jumped into the bath. She scooted along the bottom of the little pool into her own little corner. Her hair gathered in a very thick red mist around her. "So, what was your home like, _Résaku_?"

Slightly taken aback, but smiling nonetheless, Kyo began sharing. And so, the three women began to get to know, and a deep connection was formed between them.

x-x-x

Taiken began to make a pack, which he laid out on his bed. He had wanted to leave today, but Chisel and Kyo had just arrived, and Hawk had barely returned yesterday.

As for Hawk, there was a slight question about the man Taiken was hoping to answer: why had he even bothered with Kyo? The Hawk he knew wouldn't have bothered to help the injured, never mind carrying them half way across Midgard to safety. Either he didn't know Hawk as well as he thought, Hawk had changed dramatically, or there was something about Kyo. He had known Hawk for almost two years, but they were not exactly the best of friends; in fact, they were more of acquaintances than guild mates. But Taiken knew of Hawk's nature well enough, and to help someone in those circumstances was not the kind of thing Hawk would do. He did seem to have changed, but to change so much in such a short period of time seemed impossible.

So Taiken had decided it must have been something about Kyo. He had to admit that he could see the appeal; her polite, innocent air and fresh, young beauty were very appealing. And someone like her could only have a beneficial effect on Hawk. Not only did their three week trip mean the opportunity to have a small break in Comodo, but a big chance to get to know Hawk better, and maybe even place a little hope for him about Kyo.

He needed to think of a way how, but a little thought in the back of his head reminded him that something such as this would take more than three weeks, especially with Hawk.

-X-X-

"Off to Yuno we shall go…"

The entrance was filled with Ruriko singing self-invented songs to self-invented tunes. They were the first two up, though their journey was quite significantly shorter than Taiken and Hawk's. Draco playfully threw Ruriko's travelling cloak to make her go quiet for a few seconds, then watched as she launched instantly back into another strange song.

"Hey! Sis, that was unmandatory and uncalled for," she declared, gathering the cloak into a bundle of dark fabric.

"Oh, and we, little sister, will be having a lot of fun with Master Akiro," whispered Draco silkily.

"Oh, and why's that?"

"This little "soft spot" Chisel says he has for you," she replied. "That's why he's normally all normal around me, and he's quiet around you."

"I thought he was just the quiet type," admitted Ruriko sheepishly. Draco kissed her younger sister on the cheek and secured the strange witch's hat on Ruriko's head. The hat was black with a wide brim, and was much too big for Ruriko. But it was almost an exact replica of the hat worn by a villainous crone in a story the sisters were told as children no older than five. Draco remembered with a smile that whenever the wicked witch was defeated at the end of the story, Ruriko would complain and say that it was a bad story.

However, stories such as that were not so popular anymore, what with the prosperity of Yuno and Geffen, the advances in magic and the growing popularity of mage castes. Now the villain of the story was always the greedy hideous beast.

Ruriko practically dove through the wall that led to the outer labyrinth, but when prodded about it, vigorously protested that it was a hop, not a dive.

x-x-x

"Kyo, wake up," demanded the air above Kyo's head. She moaned and withdrew deeper into the covers of the bed that was hers two nights now.

The wake-up monster was persistent though; the blanket was thrown back, and a chill swept fiercely over her, causing her to retract into a shivering ball.

"I've checked, and it's sunny outside," the annoyance told her. "You will be warmer when you're up and about."

Opening one tired eye, she raised her gaze that was blurry with sleep to the dark figure stationed by her bed. Yawning deeply and rubbing her face fleetingly, she saw that it was Oshi, cold and void of emotion.

"Five minutes," he said, sweeping out of the room. Kyo swung her legs over the bed and stared after him. She suddenly had a fleeting moment in which she wished that she could be an assassin. Oshi and Draco just seemed so cool and composed, and very still. She also noticed that those two walked in a strange way, though she had only noticed it when they were walking alongside some of the other members. It just seemed like they glided along the floor with minimal movement. Of course, it was expected of them to move discreetly, and swiftly, but it just didn't seem like it could be defined as human.

Finding herself standing in her dancing uniform, she put on the earring she received yesterday from Chisel, and also grabbed the Sucsamad knife, both of which she kept on her bedside table.

As she crossed the room, she caught a glance of herself in the mirror. It was only now that she realised just how long her hair was, and it quickly occurred that it would cause interference. She quickly gathered it in her hands and twisted it into a loose braid, quickly seizing a nearby ribbon to tie it together. There was still some shorter strands left to frame her face, but she shrugged and let them be.

She paused before she stepped outside her door; this was the end of the humble nice little Kyo. She was going to learn to fight.

Chisel and Oshi were both there. Chisel smiled when he saw her.

"G' morning, milady," he said benignly. "I would like to point out that it was his idea to be up this early. You see, he has the nerve to wake a sleeping woman, and I just… don't."

Oshi frowned, and started the three of them making their way towards the entrance.

"I take it you don't have any weaponry or anything?" asked Chisel. Kyo shook her head. "Well, I'll give you some, of course…"

Kyo turned to look at him; apparently, this kind of generosity was normal for him!

He didn't dwell on the extravagant offer he had just made, and instead turned to Oshi and fired into a conversation about weapons, which Kyo only half understood. She felt somewhat put out and dumb for her lack of knowledge of weaponry. But another thing she now noticed was that Oshi seemed to drop his strong front, and make amiable conversation. Maybe she should have been worried that the only thing Oshi seemed to be able to discuss with another person was weapons and killing.

When they reached the wall that separated the occupied caves from the outer labyrinths, Kyo stopped. Oshi and Chisel looked at her; she knew she had to walk through the wall, but she was still getting her head around the concept. After a second filled with uncertain thoughts, she decided she should just learn to deal with it and strode briskly forward. Cold seized her roughly, and she closed her eyes tight, the smell of earth strong. She felt almost somewhat accomplished when she reached the other side, and found a small smile touching her features.

Oshi and Chisel emerged; it looked strange seeing them walk through the stone, but she shook the thoughts from her head, allowing the men to lead the way.

Kyo remembered the day when she had arrived in the arms of Hawk, and trying to keep track of the snaking passages. Now, it seemed all the more difficult, since she was walking.

"Who's opening the door?" asked Chisel.

"Opening the door tires me," replied Oshi flatly.

"It's not that boring, is it?"

"No, it literally tires me."

"Same here," snorted Chisel.

"Do I really need to open it? I need to be on form in case we get into trouble."

"I need to be alert to assess Kyo, _and_ I need to be handy in case we get into trouble."

"But I will be the one doing all the physical work."

"I opened the door two days ago."

"I opened it last week."

They continued their childish argument, both evidently enjoying themselves, Chisel grinning openly and a deft humour rising in Oshi's tone. Kyo almost felt worried that they would get distracted and lose their way.

But thankfully, the trio soon stood safe in front of the terracotta rock.

"Wait, shouldn't our young friend learn how to open the door too?" said Chisel suddenly. Kyo jumped slightly at her being brought into the conversation. Chisel beckoned her forward and reached inside his cart (which he had been trailing behind him the whole way) and produced a small scrap of paper.

"Focus on the rock, and break it into pieces," instructed Oshi as Kyo's eyes swept over the writing. The incantations. Closing her eyes, she was sure she shouldn't feel so confident about this little endeavour she was about to begin.

The focusing was surprisingly easy; she began reading from the paper, doing as he had told her. In her mind's eye, she cut deftly through the rock. But with her slices now made, she didn't know what to do…

"What do I do next?" she said, also trying to keep her mind on her spell.

"Tell it to move out of your way," explained Chisel, with a slight splutter in his voice.

Kyo did so, and felt a slight breeze over her face. Opening her eyes now, she saw that it had worked; the passageway was there in front of her. She strode through, swelling with pride at her small accomplishment. She directed the fragments of stone back into place, sealing her new home behind her.

The light was so bright, and there was still dew gently kissing the lush ripe grass, sparkling like diamonds. The sun blazed over the green horizon. A healthy breeze lightly caressed her features, and birdsong was present over the air. It felt wonderful to be outside again; when she was living in Arie, staying in your house for more than a day, unless you were injured or ill, just wasn't tolerated. Not that she minded…

She diverted her attention to her companions, and flinched when she saw that they were gaping at her.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, knees ready to fall beneath her.

"You _do _have a talent for magic!" exclaimed Chisel, making Kyo let go of a breath she didn't realise she had been holding in.

"I said "cut the rock", not "slice 'n' dice into tiny pieces"," was all Oshi admitted.

"We normally only make a few cuts, and it takes us ages," said Chisel, staring at her in awe. "You made thousands within about two seconds! And how did you talk and keep your focus? You're not tired, are you?"

"I'm not sure. It was just easy," she replied with a sheepish tip of the head.

"I'm impressed," he stated, smiling. "Oh, we need to get you some head gear."

"We do?"

"Yes. It's God's Cry tradition," he explained, as though this were obvious. "Actually, it seems to be a worldwide tradition, but I will callously ignore that fact, so there. You see, Taiken has his little gentlemanly hat, Draco has her Western Grace, Ruriko has a wizard's hat, and Hawk has a Solar God Helm, lucky git…"

"A Solar God Helm exists?" spluttered Kyo; the inhabitants of Midgard had turned from the gods long ago in the pursuit of magic, abandoning their old religions. The temples honouring their old deities were either deserted or inhabited by healers.

"Yes, and Hawk has one," he replied. "And Oshi and I have our little hats." He indicated to his boyish cap and Oshi's strange… demon wing helm thing. "And as for equipment, I was lucky enough to get my hands on a card, so I have a ring that will give you the ability to teleport," he explained as he took out a tiny silver ring and slid it gently onto her finger. "But beware; it should only be used if you are in trouble, as it can be a bit unpredictable and you can end up anywhere within a two mile radius."

Kyo nodded, and asked about how to use it.

"I think you just say the words "_beshou stai_", and focus on the space around you and tell it to open," he explained. "We'll get Ruriko to tell you how to use it."

"Thank you, Chisel," she said, smiling as she held her new ring up to the light.

"That's OK," he replied, grinning back at her. "Now for your head gear; let me see what I've been carting around for however long…"

He squatted down and began rummaging through his cart, Kyo wondering whether she deserved this generosity, and Oshi stood waiting with an air of impatience. Within a few seconds, Chisel emerged, clutching an assortment of strange looking articles.

"OK, all of these came from the vault in Gonryun," Chisel explained.

"Those monks really liked you, didn't they," murmured Oshi, smiling cynically.

"Well, aside from knowing one of the most cute and powerful magic practitioners in the world, I did take care of a little something-or-other for them, so I should hope so, yes," replied Chisel. He laid his little burden out on the ground in front of Kyo, who knelt down to look at the equipment; there was a strange headband almost exactly like Oshi's, except the wings on it were that of an angel.

"What is that one?" she asked pointing to it.

"Angel Helm," was the swift reply.

"How about this one?"

"Kitty Band."

"This one?"

"A tiara."

"That one?"

"Um… Goggles. What of it?"

"Wait! I think I can guess this one!" she said, taking it as a game, and picking up a little pale pink ribbon. "Could it be a ribbon…" she said sarcastically.

"Um… no! It's a… cute ribbon?"

"I think I will stick with this one," she laughed, tying it over her head.

"Aw… it does look cute!"

"Honestly, I was hoping she would choose the Kitty Band."

-X-X-

"You're not going to be bugging me about this all the way, are you?" groaned Hawk as he and Taiken tramped across the open green landscape, glorious afternoon sun beating down upon their backs. Their course was set a day's journey west to the port town of Aldebaran, where they would hopefully find a ship headed for Comodo island.

"I will bug you as long as I need to," replied Taiken smoothly. He did like to stretch people's emotions a bit, just to see their reaction. However, there was a point sometimes where it would stop being a game.

He now noted that Hawk strode incredibly briskly, shoulders hunched and stiff. And for a moment, he could see why he had chosen the name Hawk; his dark eyes were narrowed in frustration, and he looked dauntingly menacing, towering over the ground upon which he trod.

"You're pissing me off, Taiken," he spat, letting his anger surface.

"You could make it a lot easier for yourself by answering my question," Taiken whispered, hoping he at least masked his amusement to some extent.

Hawk let out a loud groan of impatience and set a faster pace for himself. Taiken looked at him for a moment, smiling, then he caught up to Hawk.

"Shut up," snarled Hawk before Taiken had opened his mouth. Taiken frowned.

"Aw… now who said I was going to say anything?"

"Well, let me think now," was the sarcastic reply, along with a glare.

Now having to jog to keep up with his companion, part of Taiken began nagging him to stop. Hawk would burst in a moment.

"Are we nearly there yet?" he said innocently.

"We've only been walking for a couple of hours," Hawk replied through gritted teeth. Pessimistic, as usual, thought Taiken, frowning again.

"Why does our base have to be so far from anything?" he tried, taking his hat off and wiping his brow.

"Ask Ruriko."

"Where were you born?"

"Umbalm. Why do you care?"

"Was it nice?"

"Does it matter?"

"Are you even capable of casual conversation?"

"Probably not."

"Are you planning on telling us why you're all defensive?"

"I learnt not to trust."

"But you still trust."

"I have to, don't I."

"When did you start using a bow?"

"When I was five. It was my fa-…"

Hawk hesitated and fell silent.

"… Yes?"

"My father," sighed Hawk, and bowing his head, as if in shame.

"Is it really so bad to talk about your family?"

"Yes."

"This is going to sound really annoying by now, but…" replied Taiken. He took a deep breath, not sure how Hawk would react. "You can tell me. I can take stuff seriously, by the way."

Hawk breathed deeply, and slowed down slightly, considering. Taiken slowed too, but also knew he would have to change his approach to Hawk; for Hawk, this was an incredibly delicate matter, and Taiken would be the first to hear about it.

"Well…" he began, his anger drained had been replaced by cautiousness. "My mother died when I was seven, but I was too young to understand, so I've grown up thinking she just left me. And my father… I don't remember him. I know one thing about him though."

"What is that?"

"I hate him."

Taiken felt his legs cease moving; he stood rigid on the spot. Hawk walked on a few paces, then turned to look at him.

"I thought you said you couldn't remember him?" spluttered Taiken. Hawk's answer just didn't fit at all…

"I don't."

"Then… why do you hate him?"

Hawk sighed deeply again, a forlorn sadness adorned the air about him. "That's the frustrating bit about it; I have no idea who he was, but I know I definitely hate him. I don't know how, and I don't know why. But hate, hate, hate him I do."

He turned back to the west, waiting for Taiken to absorb what he had just been told. Taiken never had any idea that Hawk felt this way about his parents. But now that he thought about it, Hawk had never even mentioned his parents, so it seemed he was just a man who appeared in the world, with no parents and no humanity.

Not sure how to react to the revelation, Taiken decided to follow Hawk in making good speed to Aldebaran.


	4. Something That Shouldn't Be There

_Something that shouldn't be there_

"This road is always so boring!"

Draco turned and smiled at Ruriko. She was seated on a rock, with a single piece of bread in her hand. Ruriko stayed stood, restlessly kicking the ground. It was always the same; each time they went to Yuno, there was a ritual complaint about how few reasonably powerful monsters there were lurking the road. In fact, the most threatening looking monster they had encountered was a giant frog. Incidentally, said frog did not pose much of a threat.

"I consider it a virtue," replied Draco simply.

Ruriko responded only with a quick pout. Sighing, she stretched, threw her cloak to the ground and lay down. "Wake me when I'm almost as tanned as you."

"Judging by this weather, that shouldn't be too long," remarked Draco with a smirk. She brushed the sweat from her forehead, and gazed over the landscape. There were small clusters of trees, the sky was blindingly blue, and the sun turned the ground from simple green grass to radiant emerald turf. The sun pounded on her back, and milky white clouds swirled lazily over head.

If they carried on at a steady pace, they would reach Yuno at around sunset. Yuno was a grand city that floated miles and miles above the clouds. It was so glamorous and beautiful, it wasn't possible to put into words. Draco remembered the first time she visited the city; first, she had almost fainted from the warp up to the central spire. Then she looked at the city itself, and thought she would faint again. She had, of course, heard tales of Yuno's magnificence, but nothing could have prepared her for it. She was still taken aback by the city, and she suspected she would be so no matter how many times she went.

She had always had to go there with Ruriko; in Yuno, she was known only as Ruriko's sister, not the fearless assassin, Draco. Ruriko was well known in Yuno. People would greet her as she walked by, friend or stranger. Sometimes, a hopeful young man might have a gift for her, or the Masters of Yuno would be waiting to greet her in person. Draco recalled fondly of an eager young mage, a girl no older than thirteen, came scurrying up to Ruriko, and breathlessly gabbling about how much she had wanted to meet the great Lady Ruriko, and how jealous all her friends would be in Geffen.

"Can we just assume that you tanned a bit?" said Draco, smirking again.

Ruriko sat up, and looked wistfully at her faintly toned legs, frowning. "Why not."

"OK then." Draco rose from her seat and threw her cloak back about her, as Ruriko did the same. It almost felt awkward, considering it was such a lovely day, the sun bearing down mercilessly on their backs. "Let's go then."

-X-X-

Kyo seated herself, feeling relief flowing through her, basking in the glorious afternoon sun. The landscape looked different from the day that she had first arrived; she couldn't explain it, but the fierce blazing heat became treasured warmth, the plain beige sand became gold and sparkling, and the dead plants scattered over the earth became simple black shoots that served only to remind her of the solitude and serenity of the spot.

The sucsamad knife remained near her at all times now, and she didn't feel so squeamish about killing the monsters that were to be found in the area. And she was beginning to develop her own style of fighting; Oshi and Chisel had taught her some basics, of course, but she had a tried and tested method to the way she battled.

She looked at the desert around her, but something bugged her; sometimes they came out into a beautiful green pasture, with tall trees with white silken petals and great tumbling mountains, but others they came out into the desert. When she questioned about it, the answer was simple.

"There are two entrances to the labyrinth," explained Chisel. "One is from the outside of the mountains, and one leads to the mountain range where our home is."

Kyo was satisfied, and nodded.

So far, there had only been one incident that could have been merited as dangerous; she had been killing an odd little creature called a Peco Peco, a large yellow flightless bird, which looked quite goofy in a way. Thinking it would be an easy target, Kyo attacked it. Unfortunately, another Peco Peco had seen the damage she was doing, and had charged over to assist it's companion. Attempting to knife no less than six of the giant birds eventually, Kyo was struck sharply over the head with a beak of one of them, and lost consciousness for a few seconds. However, Oshi had leapt into the fray without hesitation, and dispatched the band of creatures within a few seconds. She learnt quickly to attack only solitary Peco Pecos.

The same went for wolves, she quickly discovered. She had managed to fend off the pack, but there were scratches scattered over her legs.

Her head still hurt a bit, but the arduous training would soon be over.

"OK Kyo, I think I have all the plans I need for making your chakrams," said Chisel happily from his post. "As soon as Oshi gets back, we'll head back too."

Oshi would frequently head down into some underground caves that were crawling with insects, and come back a few minutes later with gore over his katars.

"I don't do well waiting," he would sigh when he did this.

This time however, the dark spec making their way towards them on the horizon was not striding impatiently. As he came closer, they saw he was limping. Kyo turned to look at Chisel, but he was already up, his eyes wide with worry, and set off in the direction of his friend, Kyo trailing helplessly behind.

"Are you alright?" demanded Chisel when Oshi came near.

"I should be," he replied, gingerly clicking his shoulder. He then grabbed his left arm, which hung limp, broken and useless, and roughly snapped it back into place. She jumped at the sickening crunch, feeling sick, and subconsciously folding her arms defensively.

Chisel, however, made no reaction to the endeavour, other than a trace of a wince. "What happened?"

"There is something down in Anthell that shouldn't be there," Oshi replied dryly. She guessed Anthell was the name of the caves he would frequently go to. "I don't know what it was, but it…"

There was a slight pause. "…What?"

"Licked me almost to death," he sighed, embarrassed. "What a ridiculous creature…"

"Well, it evidently did a good job of bashing you up," remarked Chisel with a frown.

"Exactly. Do you know how humiliating this is? I was licked!" Oshi sighed again, and continued. "It was a big fat pink thing with a giant tongue. It was definitely a lot stronger than the other monsters in there, and quite a lot stronger at that. But, it was almost like it… told the other monsters to attack, to help it. It was like it was commanding them. Like it was their boss."

"Weird…" breathed Chisel.

"And you know what else? It gave itself a name, and spoke our language. "Phreeoni", it called itself, and it kept telling me I was tasty…"

A thoughtful silence followed, Oshi swaying where he stood, blood slowly trickling from his cheek.

"Back home," said Chisel firmly, and he and Kyo took hold of Oshi under the arms and supported him as they made their way back.

-X-X-

Taiken and Hawk had arrived in Aldebaran; they strode straight through the clean-cut grey streets to the docks. Taiken had wanted to stay a bit, but Hawk was vigilant about being on their way as quickly as possible. He didn't know why, but being away from home seemed to turn him back into the usual icy killer. He knew perfectly well himself that it had nothing to do with being away from home, and it was more of an issue of him being away from… something else. But he would rather swallow every one of the arrows slung over his back than admit it to himself. Why Taiken would continue to lightly hassle him about it seemed totally futile.

He was still inwardly kicking himself for telling Taiken about his father; that was his own problem, and he didn't need to drag anyone else into it. He almost felt a little foolish, admitting that he despised his father for a reason he couldn't remember. It was like admitting a weakness, which wasn't exactly one of his strengths.

Upon reaching the dock, they found that there were a few boats bound for Comodo, but Hawk scoffed, noticing how so very full of tourists most of them were.

"You are aware that that's probably our best option," stated Taiken with a frown as they headed back into the centre of town. Hawk merely grunted, trying to ignore the childish giggles of a small group of young girls staring at the pair of them. Taiken picked up on the source of his annoyance with a swift glance. "Get over it. If you find that annoying, you will not survive more than a minute in Comodo."

Hawk responded only with a glare; he would dearly love to retort to that, but he had no doubts that Taiken was telling him the full honest, if blunt, truth.

"It isn't that bad, is it?" he sighed instead.

"Aw, but Hawky-poo, you has such a pwetty ickle face," replied Taiken in baby talk, pinching Hawk's cheeks. Hawk made no reaction, but frowned as his mouth was stretched.

"Off my face, Taiken," he said flatly.

Taiken kept grinning, almost annoyingly.

"They will think you are the pwettiest lil' boy on the face of Midgard," he replied.

"… Hooray."

Letting his childishly happy face dissolve slightly, Taiken frowned.

"Don't you consider yourself lucky?" he asked.

Hawk opened his mouth to reply, but found no words to match the question. He had seen people stare at him as he passed, and he held no qualms about his physical appearance, but it was just in his nature; it didn't merit any thinking about.

Taiken raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly, and now pulled Hawk's cheeks into a forced smile.

"I think you should."

"Why though?" Hawk asked incredulously.

"Because, Hawky-poo," replied Taiken, finally letting go of his throbbing cheeks. "You're going to get sick of fighting the whole time, and you're going to just want to settle down. But Hawky-poo will not want to be alone. No he won't. He'll want a woman with him. But the woman will want Hawky-poo to be good looking, see?"

Hawk paused for a moment, possibly still reeling from the name "Hawky-poo."

"I will not stop fighting when I become tired of it," he murmured. "I will stop fighting when the chaos of Midgard is resolved."

"Good attitude," was Taiken's reply. He clapped a hand on his companion's shoulder, and they strode down the street. Hawk noted with irritation that the group of girls were still watching them keenly. Follow if you dare, he thought savagely.

"Taiken?"

"Yes?"

"Never ever call me "Hawky-poo" again."

"Aw… and here was me thinking it would suit you perfectly."

The duo laughed amiably together; Hawk almost found himself lost in the moment. Anything like this he would normally have considered an annoyance that would grate roughly at his patience. Whatever he considered it at this moment, it was not an annoyance.

"We really should find out more about some of those tourist boats," said Taiken, breaking the laughter.

"Can't we find one that's maybe shipping cheese or something?"

"Aw, come on! It's not like you're allergic to tourists," he retorted, then smirked. "Or is there something else you're not telling me," he added sarcastically.

All Hawk could do was frown; there wasn't any particular logic to his not wanting to board a boat of tourists. It just felt like he would be… mingling with the ignorant. They all seemed so stupid and arrogant, lost in their holidays.

"It will only be for a few days," reassured Taiken.

Hawk considered for a moment more, then replied. "As long as it really is only a few days."

"Fabulous, Hawky-poo."

-X-X-

Ruriko could almost feel her blood replace with excitement as the pillar of light floated into view over the horizon. She would have ran to it as soon as she saw it, but she had been walking for so long, running just wasn't possible.

The sacred pillar of light was what connected Yuno to the ground where it used to be. It was the same means at Gonryon, although it is uncertain which came to be first. Of course, it was an entirely different spell that kept them floating; the pillar just made it possible to reach the towns.

The pillar looked just like a normal rock, but there was a large gaping hole cut smoothly around the bottom, like a doorway, large enough for anyone. Not only that, but it was incredibly broad and tall. It was situated in the middle of some ruins of a once grand temple. The rain-worn stairs led to the pillar, surrounded by cylinder shaped stubs of rock that used to be elegant pillars. The dust over the ground was auburn, and the skeleton of the forgotten shrine pulsed it's sunset red hue over the heat of the air.

Ruriko attempted to quicken the pace at least. But at the first sign of briskness, Draco simply groaned and restrained her with a firm hand on the shoulder. She trudged obediently at her sister's side, but had a protest poised over her lips. She thought she could almost see the sun coursing west through the sky, basking low and staining the clouds pink and scarlet, but to her it didn't seem like they were any closer to the pillar.

She loved Yuno, and was thrilled that the God's Cry home was within reasonable distance of it. Draco had sent her school there when she was eight, and she had fallen in love at first sight. She remembered arriving on the central spire and spinning on the spot as her eyes absorbed the wondrous city before her.

At first, the twelve Masters of the school were like incredibly strict parents; they would chide her, lecture her, raise her, praise her, and yet she somehow managed to see them as both parents and cold, impassive wise sages. This, to her, seemed horribly daunting, but she refused to let fear show, and went so far with this pride as to causing a lot of trouble. However, as she grew and learned, they started to treat her increasingly like an adult, and now they treated her as an equal, marvelling at how powerful she had become.

The moments stretched to small eternities, but they were soon mounting the stairs that led to the sacred pillar. Ruriko took the steps three at a time, and was left to hop from one foot to the other as Draco trudged behind.

"Some time today please, Sis," Ruriko pouted impatiently.

"Just because you are travelling quicker than the rest of the world, Ruriko, doesn't necessarily mean that the rest of the world is going to keep up," was the quick reply.

Ruriko paused for a moment, trying to decipher what had been said; obviously, it was just a simple matter, but Draco had worded it in a way that made Ruriko slow down to contemplate it. When she next looked up, Draco was stood in front of the archway in the pillar.

"Keep up, Ruriko," she said with a smirk. Ruriko only pouted again and hurried over to the pillar to be the first of the two to reach Yuno.

x-x-x

As was the usual reaction during this trip, Draco closed her eyes as she stepped over the portal that would transport them to Yuno. She didn't know exactly what happened, nor did she care. The important thing was that it got her where she wanted to go.

She took a quick gasping breath before the air was stripped from her lungs. Her legs failed to stand, and it felt as though her innards in their entirety had vanished without warning. Black was all she saw, and she spiralled skywards.

It ended as quickly as it began, and when she opened her eyes next, the white city was before her, bathed in the scarlet of the sunset. Its charm and magnificence seeped into her instantly, and she stood spellbound for a few moments before Ruriko was tugging at her arm.

"Come on, Sis!" she whined. "We're gonna be here until morning else!"

Draco smiled and trailed faintly after her, trusting her legs to carry her forward as her eyes swerved over the landscape. The busy market stalls were packing up for the day, and the stooping owners would raise a hand in greeting to the pair of them. Young mages, wizards and sages, and the crusaders in their heavy armour floated dauntingly with _clink _noises, on their way home, chattering and laughing.

After a walk that was too short, they found themselves stood in front of the Yuno Academy of Magic, Ruriko already pushing open the large bold oaken doors. Draco followed her little sister loosely, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the shadow of the entrance, the only light sources being a few blazing torches.

In terms of layout, the academy was almost as confusing as the labyrinths of the God's Cry; but Ruriko had lived here for three years, skipping confidently down white stone passages, with windows streaming with crimson light. The Masters' retiring room lay at the end of a particularly bright passage, it's door humble and ordinary, but with a single jade dragon bold and glittering on the handle. Draco smiled at the tiny decoration, then strode ahead of Ruriko to knock on the door, knowing that her sister would not have thought to be so polite.

"Who is there?" demanded a booming voice.

"Ruriko! It's Ruriko and Draco!" announced Ruriko, stood behind Draco and resting her chin on the latter's shoulder.

There was a slightly eccentric shuffling, and the door was yanked open. Framed in the doorway was Orius, the cardinal of the Masters. He gave them a small courteous bow, which the sisters returned, Ruriko bending from the waist so low that her head was touching her knees. They stepped through into the Retiring room, and it's dark, warm red glow. There was a small collection of books stacked haphazardly in a shelf at the far end of the room, and a low oblong scrubbed wooden table lay just beyond a blazing fireplace. Tall crimson chairs stood proudly and randomly over the room. Their occupants had risen to her feet, smiling at their visitors.

"Welcome back," sang Erita, striding forward and pulling Ruriko into a warm hug, ruby red lips curved into an elegant smile. Her shining black hair tumbled in magnificent waves down her back. She had an almost child-like face, with pale skin and rosy cheeks, but she was a wife and a mother, and proud of it. Ruriko had met her children, and loved them, and was often at Erita's home to play with them or baby-sit. Unlike a lot of the people Draco knew, Erita was not one to go charging off into battle on the spur of the moment; she was not lost in the spirit of battle like the others, and kept her head, knowing when it was best to retreat.

The air a-buzz with activity and greetings, the other three Masters in the room stepped forward, hugging the friend they hadn't seen for some weeks. Orius kissed Ruriko on the forehead, as a father might with his daughter. Draco thought about Orius' relationship with Ruriko; he was the Cardinal when Ruriko was at school, and had played a significant part in raising her, and so they were somewhat like father and daughter. The girls' parents in Morroc didn't count; they never had been there, and Draco didn't count on them to be anything else.

He was an elderly man, and though his hair was now a wizened white, no wrinkles yet blemished his features, and it was evident that he had once been a stunning young man. He showed the wisdom of an elder, and yet also the strength of a youth, and his stature was upright and admirable.

Another woman joined the cluster; she had silver blond hair, soft blue eyes, pale skin, and pink lips that wore a slightly pained smile. This was Ninetta, and sorrow and pity adorned the air around her. Draco had never been told why, but she knew she had never meant to enter the mage caste. Right now, she should be a priestess, as her dream was simply to help people. However, that dream had been shattered, so she turned to destructive magic. Draco was always careful around her; she was quiet, even kind-hearted and sweet, but there was still a little something strange about her.

Draco now turned her attention to the shy young man at the back of the room. She smiled; this was Akiro. He had only been a Master for a year, and was still in his late teens, as shown by a sweet, boyish face. He had amazing golden eyes, and lightly tanned skin. His velvety brown hair was slung back into a ponytail, leaving a few soft tufts rhythmically around his head. He shuffled nervously under his heavy sage's robes, looking somewhat wistful. She didn't know why she hadn't spotted it before; normally he had the some strange, youthful energy like Ruriko (just not as youthful or in such amounts), but to see him so withdrawn and defensive was strange, even a little disturbing. Draco smiled more broadly, wild little ideas forming in her mind.

x-x-x

"Where are the others?" asked Ruriko through the babble of greetings.

"Just around the city. They should be back in an hour or so," explained Erita. Ruriko nodded and turned to see what Draco thought of this, with difficulty though. But again her sister seemed impassive. Her gaze following through the rest of the room, she saw Akiro, stood nervous in the corner. She smiled at him, making him blush and turn away. She wondered how it could be possible that he was normally quite energetic, as Draco had told her.

"Seriously, Ruriko," she'd been telling her for the last couple of days. "He normally never shuts up."

"Maybe he's just filling the gaps 'cause you're always so quiet," Ruriko had retorted, knowing that it wasn't much of a retort.

"What is this, Ruriko? You being humble?"

"I'm not being humble. I'm just telling you that, yeah, he does like me, but _as a friend_. Kind of vital when you're friends, huh."

"I think we'll just have to see when we get there," was Draco's reply, with the air of someone who knew through and through that they were right.

And at the moment, it looked like Draco had been right. Akiro, bright? Impossible.

"Oh, yeah, there's a little story we need you to hear," she said, deciding to think a bit more about him later.

The Masters filed back to their seats, and watched Ruriko expectantly. She told them about Arie being destroyed, which caused a few murmurs, then about how Hawk had rescued Kyo, which made Erita scoff.

"Hawk actually show concern for someone?" she laughed. "I'm impressed."

Ruriko smirked at her and carried on, explaining about Kyo's abilities, and the Clock Tower.

"Do any of you know the full story about that Clock Tower?" she asked.

"Well, people were bold enough to build a town around it, so I'm guessing only people with a particular sensitivity to dark magic would've shown any concern about it," mused Orius. "I guess somewhere along the line, someone must have tried to come up with some sort of story behind it. Of course, they're all different and hardly provable."

"Well, I guess we're going to the Clock Tower. Honestly, I was hoping Taiken would take care of that."

-X-X-

Seagulls cruised lightly over the air of Aldebaran, skimming the fluffy white clouds. The sun shone brightly, but the sea breeze bit the air with a distinct chill. The streets were milling with people, from those clad in silk to others in robes in varying states of disrepair.

This didn't concern Taiken though; what he was concerned about was Hawk stood seething next to him. They stood (as Hawk had put it) in a crowd of idiots aboard a boat headed for Comodo. Taiken frowned at this description and muttered back, "They're just tourists. They won't bite."

They sat on deck in silence, Taiken listening to the endless babble of Comodo around them. The air was teeming with noise, but the silence between he and Hawk was louder, and made him feel awkward. Time slugged on, but the boat was soon leaving the harbour.

It was so bright; ignoring the clouds, the sun's rays blitzed viciously through the azure sky casting silver peels of light over the sea that beat endlessly at the hull of the ship. The screech of the sea gulls overhead was enough to convince him that he probably shouldn't be here. He felt his eyes widen and an uneasy gurgle in his throat as the ship groaned jaggedly into movement. He stumbled slightly, making Hawk look up at him incredulously.

"What's wrong?"

"Haven't found my sea legs," mumbled Taiken, hoping Hawk wouldn't pursue the matter.

"Good job," was the sarcastic reply, almost falling into Hawk as the ship swayed.

Aldebaran floated out of view and was soon replaced with the ocean. Taiken almost regretted it. He hung helplessly over the side, groaning and staring at the vivid mauve line of the horizon, not feeling it make any difference to his seasickness.

"I guess we learn something new everyday," chuckled Hawk from the deck. He sat cross-legged and cross-armed, smirking, and he looked complete now that his falcon had swooped down to join it's master.

"…Shut up."

"Excuse me, sirs," rang a voice behind them. Taiken felt Hawk flinch next to them, and the bird on his shoulder took off briefly. They turned to see a blonde woman, a sailor. Taiken also noted with envy that she had no qualms with running back and forth over deck without showing any signs of queasiness, brandishing a clipboard and a pen. "If you tell me your names, I will show you to your cabin," she explained, pen poised for the brush strokes.

Taiken was happy to let Hawk handle this, listening vaguely to his curt remarks and the little silences that hung over the blonde after each one. He was only half aware, wondering how we would survive for next few days.

"… But we don't want our cabin now, do we?" said Hawk crudely, turning to leer at Taiken. Taiken ignored it.

"Oh, yes we do," he said firmly, indicating to the blonde to lead the way. She smiled, and was even considerate enough to walk at his pace.

"Are you feeling alright, sir?" she asked. "If you are feeling seasick, we have treatment for it."

"No, thank you," he replied with a grimace.

"Not many people do," she sighed. "It does help, really."

But now she was steering him into a pleasant panelled room and seating him on the bed, telling him that she would wake him when dinner came while he sank quickly onto his back.

x-x-x

Wishing to not appear sadistic, Hawk dismissed the floozy with a scowl and tucked a blanket around the groggy Taiken. He didn't want to admit it, but his bones were still shaking with laughter; the proud perfect Taiken wouldn't admit to being seasick.

"What are you smirking about?" he protested from the bed.

"You."

Taiken sighed. "OK, so I get seasick, and you have a phobia of anyone in the tourist industry."

"I just don't like them," replied Hawk, turning fondly to Alder now perched obediently on his forearm.

"The way you were looking at that poor lady…"

"Aw, does lovely little Taiken feel bad about the poor lady?"

"No. You do."

"Are you deaf?" spat Hawk, making Taiken shrink back slightly. "Her voice was like a canary crossed with a thief bug."

Taiken laughed so loud, Hawk was scared he'd done something wrong.

"Little things like that get you?" he sniggered, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Yes. And why not?"

"You won't get very far with your pickiness and your why-ness."

"'Why-ness'?" What an immensely stupid word…

"This 'why' thing you do. You don't need a reason for everything. Some things don't need an explanation – they're just there."

Hawk thought about this for a moment; he felt Taiken was asking a bit much, the "give up the way you have been thinking since you were eight" request. Maybe it was when his mother had died (he tried hard not to think "left me"); he couldn't understand why, so he probably felt he needed to find the whys in everything else.

But now that he thought, that stretch of pain in his life was barely memorable.

-X-X-

Akiro treaded the familiar corridors back to his room, head pounding furiously with every step. He cast his mind for something to think about; his teaching tomorrow, what had just been heard in the retiring room, the Clock Tower… _anything._ But every time his thoughts would hurtle back to Ruriko.

They went to school together, but she would have been a couple of years below him so he doubted if he ever looked at her. He excelled in everything in lessons, and when he graduated he was invited to become a Master. He declined at first, choosing to exercise his magical talent and spent a year travelling. He returned to Yuno invigorated and with a fighter's spirit simmering under his calm exterior, and spent another year going through the initiation process of becoming a Master.

Becoming a Master was not the easiest of tasks; in fact, Akiro had been dangerously close to just giving it up. One requirement was, of course, full marks in the graduation exams, which he already had. Another was that he had to be able to speak the Language of the Making fluently. He had grown up using thunder magic, but now he had to branch off and learn some spells from the other elements, which was most certainly an arduous task in itself.

On top of all this, he was given first hand teaching experiences with the senior classes. This had been when he'd really noticed Ruriko; she had been an absolute nightmare to tutor, always causing trouble, never on time, generally just being a nuisance. He had hated her then, thinking she didn't fully appreciate the position in the prestigious school she had.

He was convinced that she would plummet headfirst into failure, but when came the time of her own graduation exams, she was the only one since he himself to achieve full marks. As soon as Orius offered her the title of Master, Akiro felt like he'd been whacked particularly hard in the stomach with a merchant's cart; it was like he had lost to her. She declined, of course, but, curious, asked what the requirements were anyway. Akiro tried in vain to mask his surprise as she calmly told them that she could already speak the Language of the Making fluently, and that, despite being taught only in fire magic, had learnt other basic spells in the other elements; she had been sneaking into the library at night to study them. Orius and the other Masters were most impressed, and the same went for Akiro, except he refused to let it show.

Akiro was finally initiated, and the Masters learnt of the God's Cry, and now worked closely with them. As this occurred, Ruriko's visits became much more frequent. Akiro was fine with the God's Cry, all except Ruriko; she was now equal to him, and he would have to pay her notice. At first, he was impassive, but as time went on, he began to realise the feelings he'd developed for her, and identified it as puppy love. He thought it a bit early to be called love, and he couldn't think of the sentence "I love her" without wincing.

And now he just tried to go unnoticed around her; even if she "liked" him as well, he had no idea where it go from there. Part of him wanted her to see he was there, and to know what he felt, but another part told that was bad, and he should just keep his mouth shut. He wondered briefly whether anyone else had noticed, but himself in his entirety begged to the ancient gods that they hadn't; he wasn't sure how he'd react if Ruriko found out, but the most awful would be if someone else confronted him about it.

He felt something stir behind and froze. Sensing the breeze of a quick movement on the back of his neck, he wheeled around instantly, eyes frantically scanning the shadows that stretched in moaning prongs over the corridor.

"Who's there?" he demanded firmly.

"Relax," said a voice to his left. He faced the source of the voice, and squinted hard into the darkness; the outline of someone melted into his view, and looking closer saw that it was only Draco. He resented this assassin technique; obviously, it was hard to see someone in the shadows, but assassins excelled in this, managing to go totally unnoticed. He had heard other members of the God's Cry complain about this, saying they never knew whether or not Oshi and Draco were still with them in the darkness, or whether they had taken off and were miles away.

Akiro sighed. "Hey Draco."

"Well, aren't we a little gloomy," she said, stepping into the light.

"No, just a little tired," he replied. "Shouldn't you be going to bed as well? And why didn't I hear you?" He already knew the answer, but he felt so inferior that he had to voice his despondency.

"Well, I wouldn't be much of an assassin if I couldn't do _that_," she scoffed. "And I just wanted to talk to you, just on your own."

He nodded, and indicated for her to follow. She sauntered after him silently, and he wasn't sure if she really was accompanying him.

He felt a little safer when he stepped inside his own room, but the feeling vanished as Draco mimicked his steps. He watched her carefully as she sat in the chair at his desk, and felt secure enough to turn his back.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" he asked, a fragment of his mind telling him he already knew. He prayed he was wrong.

"My dear little sister."

x-x-x

Draco almost felt a little satisfied as tension shuddered it's way into his limbs.

"Ruriko?" replied Akiro, evidently trying to make it sound like he hardly knew of her. "What about her?"

"Do you like her?"

He froze again for a moment.

"As a friend," he said flatly, keeping his back to her, so that she wouldn't see his face.

"Are you sure? Because you act very strange around her." She paused to examine the effect of the words. "Much like you are now."

He stood icily still; it looked as though he would shatter into a thousand lifeless pieces if he weren't handled with care, like glass.

"I don't know what you mean."

She thought that maybe she should walk around him, make her face him. But she knew that that was a bad idea.

"Maybe you don't, but I think you do. I'm just here to talk about it. And don't worry, I can keep secrets," she added. "It's just that the Masters are good people, but you won't want to talk to them about it because you don't want them to think of you differently. But considering I already know that you like her, I won't think of you any differently."

She watched as he seriously considered these words; she was glad to see that the strain was out of his stature. He turned, eyes woefully wide.

"Promise?"

"I promise," she said back securely, placing a hand over her heart and giving him a little bow from where she was seated. He smiled, and took a stool to sit next to her.

"So, where do I start?"

"Well, first you can tell me what you like about her."

Akiro looked only slightly surprised, but began relating a long list of reasons of why Ruriko was so great, a list that had not been examined even by him before. The way she expressed her emotions, the way she cared about those she loved, the way she looked cute no matter what she did, the way she'd poured her heart into her diary, the way she'd become so powerful…

He stopped mid-sentence, and cast his eyes down, blushing.

"Sorry," he murmured, afraid of taking things too far.

Draco simply laughed. "See, this is why we need to talk about it."

"Well, I guess that about sums it up," he said. "What now?"

"I have already talked to Ruriko about this, an-…"

"You _what_!"

"Don't worry! She's being all modest and shy about it." Draco sighed. "But I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not."

"… Why not?"

"Well, you're her friend, and she likes you, and she doesn't want you to get hurt. If she's the way she is at the moment, she may be scared of rejecting you because she doesn't want to hurt you. It might just be that she isn't entirely sure of what's going on; sure, she has her fair share of men trying it on with her, but it's not like she knows what they're doing. She knows that there is such a thing as love like yours for her, but she doesn't know how to spot it or how to react to it."

She watched him quickly, trying to see what he was thinking; she hoped that her speech hadn't flattened his spirits so much. He was resting his chin on his hand, brows knitted together in a thoughtful frown.

"Anything I can do about it?"

Draco thought about the question for a minute. _How to get these two together_…?

"Firstly, I'll try worm out some kind of answer from her. Make her see sense, almost. But you need to open up to her." Draco gave an ironic snigger, realising where she was heading with her explanation and remembering most of the times Ruriko had put either herself or Draco in terrible danger. "You see, my sister isn't exactly the most easy of people to stay friends with. She's easy to make friends with, a little too easy, in fact. But friendship is a very strong concept to Ruriko; once she's your friend, you're friends forever, and if you step out of line, you will break her heart. She will gladly tell you everything about her, but she will expect you to do the same. She will gladly charge headlong into battle for you, but she will expect you to do the same. She would gladly die for you, but she will expect you to do the same. See what I'm getting at?"

"I see," he replied. A little too quickly. Draco frowned, but let it slide.

"And somewhere along the way, you'll tell her you love her, won't you?"

"Don't you think that love is a bit of a strong word?" Again, a little too quickly.

"I think it's appropriate," she replied with a meaningful glance.

He was about to make a reply, but his mouth flailed in silence, and he sank further into his seated position, defeated.

"You're going to have to shed a little pride," remarked Draco. "If you can't admit it to yourself, how are you going to admit it to her?"

"Right."

"Good night," she said, considering her work done for the time being. She got up and strode back to the door, with a mumbled good night from Akiro drifting behind her.

"And Akiro," she added, realising something. He looked up. "Be yourself. And I mean the you you normally are when you're around me or someone who isn't Ruriko. Not the quiet withdrawn you, because he won't be the one to say "I love you".

"And finally, if you break her heart, I will hunt you down and make sure you pay."

"Do you really think I would hurt her?"

"Good answer. Make sure you mean it, because I mean what I said."

-X-X-

"How is that possible? Did they evolve or something?"

Oshi was still rather miffed about being beaten by licking. They sat in the main hall, Kyo quiet, Chisel indifferent and Oshi continuously clicking various bones that had been injured and were now stiff.

"Can you please stop doing that?" said Chisel, meaning the never-ending crunches of Oshi's bones.

"No."

"Wrong answer; why not?"

"Because everything bloody well hurts, and I don't like it, and I can't move." He stretched his arms out in front of him and began snapping his fingers back and forth. Chisel just winced, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

"OK, so we have a little bit of a threat running around in Anthell," he mused. "What if it comes out?"

"I think the best thing to do would be to steer clear of Anthell," suggested Kyo. "And when the others get back, we will try and kill it."

"We'll have to train on the other side of the caves now. You don't think that maybe there are others like that… Phreeoni, do you?"

"I think there are, actually."

Oshi and Chisel turned to Kyo, a little stunned by her certainty.

"Not necessarily here," she added hastily. "But definitely monsters who "rule" over the others. Like a commander or something."

"But how did they get here?"

"They've always been here; it's just they haven't shown themselves so often."

Kyo fell into silent thought, possibly wondering how she'd managed to say what she said. Chisel was a little confused, not sure whether to believe her or not; it wasn't such a difficult thing to believe. There were plenty of stories of perfectly able fighters venturing bravely into dungeons and not returning, and it wouldn't have been unreasonable to assume that there was something in there that was a lot more of a challenge than had originally been anticipated. But how did Kyo know this? And why was she so sure?

He turned to check Oshi's reaction, and was not surprised to see that his facial expression was something of a frown mixed with wariness. It was a bit strange to see, but Chisel had a feeling that he was pulling the exact same look.

"But it's almost like they've formed some sort of hierarchy," said Oshi. "That seems a bit too human."

"I think there's a hierarchy in everything, humans and creatures alike," she replied. "But it's just we look at it as a hierarchy which is a very human thing. Do you see what I'm saying?"

Chisel could only faintly make out the message of the sentence, but saw roughly what it was about.

"So you're saying that they're still monsters?"

"Of course; they wouldn't be anything else, would they? It's just that they are becoming intelligent, if you like. Either way, we definitely need to get rid off it."

"Well, obviously."

"When the others come back though. If Oshi can't solo in there, it's a pretty safe bet that the three of us together wouldn't make much of a difference."

"Do you think that maybe we should gather a bit more information?" asked Kyo.

"Well, so much for staying away from Anthell…" murmured Oshi grudgingly.

"Well, we'd have a better chance of fighting it if we knew what we were up against," she reasoned. "And if it spots us, we just run like mad, see?"

"I see. But it's still a bit too risky," said Chisel, standing up.

"I know. We don't have to. But I really do want to find more out about this…"

"We all do. And if the others were here, we'd be gone in a heartbeat. But they're not, so we'll just have to wait."

"I don't know… I guess there wouldn't be too much harm in just taking a look around," replied Oshi thoughtfully. "I'd been down there loads of times before, and I ran into that thing by accident."

"And the others will feel a lot better about fighting this thing if they know what they're up against."

"I'm guessing just telling them to kill a pink blob with a giant tongue will be a little cheap, huh," sighed Chisel with a frown. He thought for a moment, painfully aware that it was up to him, that it was safer to stay away from Anthell for the time being, and also that they would be horribly disappointed if they couldn't go down there and they wouldn't take no for an answer.

"OK, fair enough. But we're not fighting that thing."

"You think I want to fight that thing again?" snapped Oshi incredulously.

"Yes."

Oshi responded only with a glare. Chisel grinned.

20


	5. Phreeoni and the Lord of Death

_The Lord of Death and the Phreeoni_

_Oh, this is a slight dilemma; remember how Draco was all like "Akiro L-I-K-E-S you, and so on"? I think she may be right! This is all rather bad. She's just been talking to me about it (left just a few seconds ago, actually.) I so do not get her… I'm trying to pretend that I don't know what she means, coz I don't want to say what I think she means. But why am I so afraid of it all anyway? I mean, apparently it's a very good thing, but if he "loves" me, but am I really ready for it? And what does he like about me anyway? He could so do better than me. I'm stupid, amazingly stupid, clumsy, ditzy, hyperactive, immature – everyone says so. Whereas he is just about the smartest most best looking man on Midgard. I wish I knew him better. And I wish I knew why I'm so scared about the whole thing…_

_Draco wants me to talk to him, get to know him better. But he's always so quiet. Still, maybe he'll say himself whether it's all true or not, and maybe he'll add in what's so great about me. But even if it's true, what happens next? Do we get married and have sickly sweet romantic nothings or annoying cute children or something? Bugger, what am I supposed to do?_

As she marked the last rune of her entry, Ruriko let the pen dwindle on the page, then trailed it off the last mark into a black squiggly line, which to her meant exasperation. She frowned, a little tired, but, as always, felt a little better with her feelings written in her diary.

But the thing she couldn't write about was about how (apparently, she added quickly) Akiro… _loves_ her.

"What kind of hole have you dug yourself into, silly Ruriko?" she said aloud to herself, falling back onto her bed. She did consider it a fault of her own; _why am I appealing?_

Everything she'd ever done had been about the present; she couldn't remember ever giving any kind of thought to the future. At all. And she didn't like this change that suddenly looked as if it was going to smack her full in the face.

With a careless little gesture, the candle next to her bed went out, extinguishing the scarlet streaks of light cast over the room that was hers for the next couple of weeks. She crawled under the cover and fell onto the mattress. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was abuzz with questions and doubts, leaving none of her with any peace.

"Bah, shut up!" she grumbled aloud, seizing a pillow and roughly yanking it over her head. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, but through the black were still sparks of exasperation, and she jolted up, groaning.

She re-ignited the candle, and breathed a hefty sigh for the eighteenth time.

"How the bloody buggery Hel am I supposed to sleep?"

-X-X-

Hawk hated to admit it, but Taiken was kind of right about his prediction that he would like Comodo. It truly did look like the "town of enjoyment" that every brochure of it boasted. It was sweltering hot; Taiken was already removing his hat and coat, and even Hawk was inches from taking off a layer or two. (He would do no such thing, however, until times were drastic.)

Most of the town was built in vast caves hollowed out in a grand mountain that towered over the landscape, now pulsing with midday heat. Visible inside the ceilings of the caves were strange opaline crystal formations, casting coloured shadows over glittering sand. He couldn't see all that the caves had to offer from where he stood on the harbour, but there was also some of the town built outside, under the most blindingly brilliant blue sky. Littered on various levels above were mud huts, their occupants all observing the ship that had just arrived, some with exasperation, some with indifference, some ardently. Circling the base of the mountain like a sun-kissed halo was a tempting looking beach, which was fairly packed with small clusters of chattering sunbathers.

Hawk blinked, now noticing that Taiken was strutting in circles around him, now that he finally had a still and stable ground beneath his feet after five days of seasickness. Hawk was actually a little miffed; to take his mind from his minor ailment, Taiken would be continuously strumming his guitar, making up a masterpiece of a tune as he went along, which Hawk whole-heartedly enjoyed. He didn't tell Taiken this, of course.

Taiken was smiling, and led them briskly further up the mountain, to the school, he had explained. He had obviously been a student there, and told Hawk repeatedly that there was "most certainly nothing to worry about."

"OK, I'm a bit cold towards people," replied Hawk with a frown. "It's not like I'm going to kill someone when I first meet them, am I?"

"I mean that they will take good care of Kyo, and you don't have to worry about her," Taiken said blandly. Hawk couldn't see his face, but he was certain that his companion wore a smirk. _What the Hel…?_

After a second, Taiken stopped and turned to face Hawk. And he was smirking his little know-it-all smirk. Then Hawk realized Taiken had stopped because he had stopped. That didn't mean there was some… relevance to his words?

"I don't know what you mean," he replied stiffly. "If you're implying that I care about Kyo, then you're-…"

"Absolutely correct." Taiken frowned. "You've dug yourself into a bit of a situation; you're trying to tell you don't care about Kyo, but you rescued her, for essentially no reason I might add."

Hawk stood puzzled, trying to not word his thoughts. In fact, he had no idea what he was thinking at all, but he had this horrible suspicion that it went something along the lines of "Taiken is right."

He shook his head, trying to remain vapid. He knew it didn't work when Taiken frowned and took them further up the mountains, keeping silent to leave the hunter brooding.

-X-X-

Draco sat recovering from a little scuffle with a few creatures that were found just beyond the pillar of light. She was there with one of the strangest of the twelve Masters, Fieri.

Fieri was a violent woman, and embodied all of the qualities typically found in a fire mage, only it was like they had all been magnified to huge proportions; she was the most ferocious, energetic, impulsive, enthusiastic, stubborn and destructive person Draco knew, and when mixed with incredible magical abilities, doubtful sanity and large amounts of pyromania, she was an immensely dangerous person to be around. Everything she said was with passion, and with everything she did she settled for no less than her very best. She was short in stature, but she seemed to fill the entire room. Her skin was bronzed, and her eyes large and bright green. Her hair was red like Ruriko's, but it was slightly brighter, had been cut short so as not to be a hindrance in combat, and had streaks of white running through it. Draco hadn't the nerve to ask why; in fact, each time she so much as looked at Fieri, she inwardly sighed with relief knowing that Fieri was her friend and ally.

They were down here collecting ingredients for a potion class; it had only been introduced into lessons recently.

"Are we teaching alchemists or sages?" had been Fieri's angry reaction.

This kind of work was always quite tedious. For a start, Draco had never been keen on the idea of fighting alongside sages or wizards, simply because of their abilities. Obviously, it was OK when it was just Ruriko, because she understood the annoyance of charging at something only to see it blow up when within inches of it via powerful spell. And Fieri was most certainly over the top with her spells; even if it were completely unnecessary, she would cast her most powerful spells, leaving charred smoking craters.

But Draco was not here for the fighting; she was here to skin strange sheep-like creatures. They were creatures spawned from fire, and their hide was a known stimulant: excellent for performance enhancing formulas.

There was a brief crackle, a bite of cold on the air, a strong gust of wind and a chilling smashing like the shattering of glass, and, "Yo, Draco!" called Fieri impatiently. "Got another one to skin."

Draco sighed and stood up, and made her way over to the kill while unsheathing her katars. She was careful around the area that had been coated in ice from Fieri's spell.

Draco tensed and spun around, eyes narrowed, scanning the landscape. Fieri made a confused noise but she shushed her quickly.

"Hey, there are plenty of monsters around here, so it's probably just another o-…"

"We have to leave," snapped Draco firmly. "Now, quickly. There is something here that shouldn't be. Can't you try and see what it is?"

Fieri looked again as though she was about to protest, but she nodded and took out her wand. Draco kept her eyes on her surroundings, waiting for some sort of answer.

"Shit," muttered her companion. She turned, expectant. "You were right. And it wants nothing more than to kill anything it finds."

-X-X-

"At some point, you two are going to have to remind me why I agreed to this," sighed Chisel blandly. He took off his cap and ran one gloved hand through his boyish blond hair, casting a furtive glance at the entrance of Anthell.

Kyo heard Oshi mumble something, but didn't pursue it. At the moment, the assassin was shuffling irritably, which looked so strange after becoming familiar with his usual stillness, even in the sweltering heat.

"You know, you could just take the bandages off," stated Chisel, keeping his eyes on Anthell. Oshi grunted in reply, but kept shifting beneath his clothes. Kyo shot a quick glance at Oshi's torso, which was bound tightly with bandages. She was going to ask about them, but Chisel was now leading them into the caves.

He sank out of view, and Kyo followed to a murky looking slope, which turned out to be a lot steeper than she thought; she slid down the bank and stumbled slightly at the bottom, but kept her balance. Oshi silently followed.

The shade swept over her in a cooling wave of relief, but the air became thick and difficult to breathe.

"Keep close to Chisel," said Oshi suddenly. "I can go unnoticed here."

She nodded.

The trio traipsed through the cold shallow caves. The ground they walked upon was a grey smear of sand, which was uncomfortably damp. Kyo kept her guard up, following vaguely behind Chisel, trailing his cart with one hand and a large silver axe gripped in the other. She assumed he knew what they were looking for, because she didn't know if she could handle the concept of him being in the same confused state of mind as her: fearing and searching for an unknown beast that would… lick them to death.

It took a lot of reminding herself to remember that Oshi was still there with them. She had been uncertain about what he'd meant by going "unnoticed." It was amazing how he so easily slipped into the shadows…

x-x-x

Chisel wasn't happy about this at all. It was far too risky. It was all very well if it were just Oshi and himself, but having to drag Kyo down here as well was an incredibly dumb idea. But, of course, he had no choice. There was nowhere Kyo could go by herself, and Oshi would come to Anthell with or without Chisel's help. He wished he could turn to her and say that everything was going to be fine, and he knew how to defend her from the "Phreeoni", but he couldn't. The best he could do was fend it off and be on his guard.

The damp crunch his boots made in the sand made him feel uncomfortable, and the ant like creatures scuttling over their feet didn't help. He heard Kyo make a little whining noise each time one of them made physical contact with her, but Chisel shot her a meaningful look, and she fell silent.

The sluggish passages trailed on and on; he hardly came down here himself, but Oshi, prowling somewhere in the shadows (_near us hopefully_, he thought,) should really have been leading them.

There was a crackle above their heads, and everyone's eyes darted to the ceiling, only to find dull greyish dust that now fell to the floor.

"That had to have been bigger than an ant to disturb that dust," whispered Oshi. "Another fifty yards this way, I think."

Fifty yards… Chisel's grip tightened on his axe, and everything seemed a lot more real. He was now aware of his lack of protection, and painfully aware that he was just skin and bone, to be torn apart with ease. And suddenly, the passage ahead seemed to loom and stretch and jeer before them.

They pressed on, Chisel managing to control his fear. Kyo edged nervously behind, and he quickly put a protective arm around her shoulders and hooked his cart behind him onto the handle of his axe. He kept his eyes on the arch of the cave, also aware of the light-footed shadow strafing in front of them. He now brought them to a sudden halt.

"Listen," he whispered. Chisel strained his ears, but could only hear a low mumbling.

"What's it saying Oshi?" he asked, somewhat jealous of the assassin's acute hearing.

Oshi remained unflinchingly still for perhaps a couple of seconds, and was almost invisible with the lack of movement.

"It's hungry," he replied. "We'll move a bit closer."

"It'll find us," said Kyo instantly.

"Then we run," he retorted, prowling off further into the caves. Chisel sighed and shrugged, and dragged himself and Kyo after him.

The rasping groan crept nearer, and he could now hear snippets of words. It was an awful grating hissing noise that made his bones prickle. If the air had become thicker and danker over their journey, it was horribly noticeable now.

Chisel turned, noting with a little apprehension that their fifty yards had almost been walked. Ahead of them lay a sharp left turn, which led to what looked like a totally separate cave. It was just as musty and dark as the rest of Anthell, but this section of the caves was spacious and wide.

Oshi darted to the other side of the archway and concealed himself behind it, quickly becoming just another shadow. Chisel peered around the corner and felt a wave of numbing sweep over him; Phreeoni was right there.

It was a disgusting looking creature. Chisel wasn't sure if it were solid or made of some strange jellopy substance. It was about eight feet tall, a dull mauve in colour with a beige front, and there were gnarled green… things growing out of it's head. It had mad wide rolling eyes, a tongue lolling from its gaping mouth that dragged along the floor, and it's "arms" flailed in great disgusting rippling motions through the air above it's head. There wasn't a lot of shape to it; it seemed to be a great hulk of pink and tongue. It straddled to and fro along the dusty floor, screaming in a deep pulsing moan of a voice.

"Why am I always hungry?" it demanded the air around it. "Food… food… I need food! Somebody bring me some meat! Fresh meat! I'm hungry!"

Chisel was trying to signal to Oshi that they needed to leave. They had to get out. But he didn't know whether or not Oshi could see, and prayed to the ancient gods that Phreeoni wouldn't spot them.

"_Here!_" it shrieked forcefully and so suddenly, it sent waves of shock through his body. "Someone is here! Bring them to me! Come out! Bring them here! I'm hungry!"

There was a horde of ants streaming toward them, looming closer and clustering together. Chisel watched with wide eyes as the situation began to cave in on them; they were discovered, and they couldn't take on Phreeoni.

"Oh shit," he breathed. Kyo looked desperately up at him. "Oshi, let's go! Run!"

Instantly, Oshi tore off back the way they had come, and Chisel let go of Kyo, sprinting away. Ahead, there was a flash of katars, and a throng of dead ants spilled to the floor. Chisel followed suit, jabbing his axe wildly at the sea of insects, and judging by the frequent stabbing noises just ahead of him, so was Kyo. Behind them, he heard earth-shaking stomps, and the mad cry of Phreeoni as it now came pelting after them.

The seconds streaked by, leaving Chisel feeling vague and lost in the chase. He had doubts that they would be able to outrun it. He quickly whispered the chant for a simple Blacksmith spell, known as the Hammer Fall. They was a little bronze tingle on the air, and magic lit the dark caves. It shaped itself into the hammers, as Chisel instructed, and rocketed to the ground. As each hit, it sent a little dizzying shockwave over the floor, and a tremendous (and oddly comforting) crash.

He sighed with relief, but he didn't cease running. There were a few moments where the only sound was the pounding of human feet, then a faint rabble as the creatures began moving again. A scream of frustration was heard from Phreeoni, having lost its prey that shook the dust from the ceiling.

With only a slight struggle, they heaved themselves panting and shocked back up into the desert, a burst of bright sunlight greeting them. The heat of the day shrouded them again, and they gulped down the fresh air that lay on the surface.

"In future," declared Chisel through his fatigue. "We don't…" His tired mind fought for something to say, and came up with an unhelpful blank. "Ah, bugger it!"

Oshi, the only one of the three to remain standing after breaking out of Anthell, shook off his katars and sheathed them again. "Back to the mountains?" he asked, though it was more like a statement than a question.

"But we're killing that thing at some point?" said Kyo abruptly, and rather firmly.

"When the others get back," replied Chisel after a pause. He rose uneasily to his feet, fully acknowledging how hot it was, and taking the lead as they set off home again.

-X-X-

"Taiken, that's a bit of a tall order, you know."

Taiken sighed again. The sigh went to Hawk, and he too wished he knew a way to dress up the proposal without it being "a bit of a tall order."

Honestly, Hawk had been afraid that the dancers at Comodo school would all be these hideous girly girls who would giggle non-stop and speak in voices that would make his skin wrinkle and his ears bleed. He'd had several rather frightening and scarily vivid mental images of these horribly feminine creatures dressed in giant pink fluffy things, parading and gossiping.

But the kind headmistress of the school whom they spoke with now was most definitely nothing like that. Yes, she had her… "feminine charms", and a sort of happy-go-lucky attitude, but she was mature and easy to talk to. And she didn't wear very much pink.

Her name was Aravis, and she was the daughter of the first battle dancer. Word had it that she looked just like her mother, and so did her own daughter. There were signs of age creeping onto her face, but they didn't look like flaws somehow. Her skin was tanned, her eyes dark blue and vivid, and her hair was a sleek stream of silvery blond.

"I realize that Aravis," replied Taiken pleadingly.

"You remember how hard it was to pass the test to get into the senior classes, don't you?" she asked, a little severely, as though Taiken were still her student.

"Yes, but-…"

"She was already in the senior classes in her school," interjected Hawk. He knew quite a bit about Kyo from the long conversations on their solitary journey from Arie.

Aravis sighed. "Yes, I have no doubts that Miss Kyo is a competent dancer, but Comodo is quite a bit more demanding than Arie."

"We reckon she could handle it," replied Taiken casually. "And if she can't, what have you got to lose?"

Aravis considered this slightly, with a slight glare at Taiken. It took Hawk a lot of self control to not roll his eyes or slap himself in the forehead, or better yet, clobber Taiken with something large, heavy and blunt; he'd been pretty explicit on the boat about the what-have-you-got-to-lose tactic and not using it.

"It would be so much easier if I could just meet her here," mused Aravis, a little bitterly.

"Can you send your falcon with a note?" suggested Taiken.

"Yes, but they won't be here for a week."

"That's OK," interjected the slightly flustered dancer. "And if she's good enough, then maybe my daughter will stop whining about her room mate, or lack thereof."

"That's a point; how is little Tassy?" asked Taiken leisurely.

Aravis laughed slightly. "Peachy. And if you spot her, please don't go through that whole "look how you've grown" routine you seem to be fond of; she gets enough of that from her father."

-X-X-

"Hey, Akiro!"

Akiro spun around to face the classroom door, immensely surprised to see Ruriko standing there, as was his class.

"Ruriko? What's wrong?"

"We've got some arse to kick – we're rounding up the other Masters and heading down to the pillar. Sis and Fieri just got back from there and they say we have to go down there and give a little big thing that shouldn't be down there a bloody good whack."

Akiro took a few seconds to realise he was frowning, not sure whether to believe her or not.

"Oh, and if you don't hustle it up a bit, Fieri's gonna come stomping up here and she'll be angry with us. And since I like my limbs where they are at the moment, let's just go."

"Fair enough," he replied, not sure what else to do. Still feeling a little squeamish about leaving a class of fire mages on their own for an undesignated period of time, he followed her out of the classroom. "Any idea what this thing is?"

"Er… No," was the sheepish reply. "But we do know it likes blood, gore, death, killing, maiming, massacring, and other such lovely things."

"Sounds like fun."

"That's fabulous, but we happen to be late. The others are already there." With that, she seized him (surprisingly firmly) around the wrist and sprinted out of the school, him barely keeping up.

x-x-x

She kept her eyes carefully fixed on the road ahead, and her mind on her destination and the surprised teeming crowds they cut a fine path through. She kept wondering if he was staring at her, but she would mentally slap herself every time she ran across the thought.

"They didn't bother to find out what this thing is?" he asked as they neared the pillar.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. All Sis said about it was a stupid thing like "better safe than sorry"," she replied, turning to frown, cautious not to meet his eyes.

Not sure if he would keep up, she seized his wrist again and bolted up the stairs of the central spire. Fatigue came thumping into her legs only after the climb, at the top of the spire where the other Masters and Draco stood waiting in front of the pillar.

"Are we all ready to go?" grumbled Fieri, impatiently beating the air with her wand.

"It was his fault…"

"I want rid of that thing!" screamed Fieri suddenly, making everyone jump back.

"Fieri, it's OK!" said Senko, a short silver haired woman. She adjusted her glasses, large blue eyes blinking rapidly, as she rushed forward to sooth her companion. "We'll be done with it all soon…"

"You didn't feel it," spat Fieri savagely. "It's desire to kill. It needs to be rid off. Now. Quickly."

"Let's go then," said Jigan firmly. He strode to the pillar, and was gone. The others followed.

Within a minute, the fourteen fighters stood assembled, ready to search and destroy. Ruriko automatically took out her diary and began her "Sense" spell, scanning the surrounding landscape. Her heartbeat was clearly audible, and her vision clouded slightly, becoming more complex and abstract. Images and feelings came in a blurry array of hazy messages. There were little stabs of bloodlust as she stumbled over a monster. Lurching further around, she found still nothing.

"Anything?" asked Draco from somewhere. Ruriko ceased chanting, mind swirling slightly as it fully returned to her body.

"Not yet."

"I can't find it either," said Senko with a little fumble of her shield. She was so gangly and physically weak that she didn't even bother taking an assault weapon into a fight; just a shield.

A few of the Masters returned from their spell, shaking their heads glumly. Sighing, Ruriko took off on another Sense, with a little gasp of searing pain, willed herself out a little further, flitting over the terrain.

Then she felt it; a single whisper of wind, the breath left her lungs, and her mouth was filled with a metallic taste. She was completely overcome with the most incredible thirst for gore… She had to kill something! Pain was snaking into her, coming in white-hot stabs… and she needed to kill…if she didn't kill, she would choke to death… all the time, every last part of her was screaming that she had to kill…

"_Ruriko_!"

She hurtled back to her senses once more, and air flooded her insides.

"Did you find it?" asked Draco, staring straight into Ruriko's face. Not trusting herself to speak, Ruriko nodded.

"You dwelled on it too long," sighed Fieri, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Do you feel alright?"

"I think I do," she replied. "It's this way." She led them off, surprised at the thump in her head that came with every step, the sick feeling in her stomach, how faint her legs were and how it didn't seem they would support her weight. She didn't let it show, of course. She had to see to it that this thing was disposed of; she saw what Fieri meant now, about having to kill this thing as soon as possible.

"Ruriko, did you get a name?" the short little fire sage asked from behind her. "It styled itself, but that seems impossible and I didn't know if-…"

"Lord of Death," said Ruriko instantly.

x-x-x

Akiro was horribly unnerved by Ruriko's… fit; but he wasn't sure whether it would be wise to show too much concern.

He walked with Jigan, an impulsive, charming and silent man only a few years senior to him. Jigan was something like a brother to Akiro, but he wasn't sure if he could talk to him about Ruriko.

"It's just past that… shrine looking… thing," she suddenly said from the head of the group, pointing.

"I'll go on ahead," replied Draco instantly.

"But, Sis-…"

"I'll be fine."

With her fists clenched, the assassin strode forward, slinking into the shadows.

x-x-x

Sticking to her old habits, Draco didn't move more than a few inches from the walls. She kept reminding herself of the quick chant that allowed her to slip unnoticed into the ground, slowly rolling over their syllables in her mind. The closest translation for the words was "hiding" or "let me hide", so the thief technique became known as "Hiding."

She edged closer, her feet causing no stir in the sand, then strafed behind the next pillar. The "shrine looking thing" was set out like a corridor, lined densely with crumbling columns of crimson stone.

Suddenly, there was a crashing noise, like the splitting of a tree trunk beneath a steel axe. It wasn't particularly loud, but it was most certainly daunting, and set her heart rattling in her chest. With the smallest movement, she risked a glance at the creature.

It was almost as tall as the pillars that towered over her. She reminded herself quickly that she could down a monster of any size, but there was something so menacing about it. It was covered it blazing white armour, mounted on a giant white horse. It looked almost like a knight, and reminded her of the huge Abysmal Knight that prowled the north. Straining her ears, she heard heavy, rattling breaths of longing, that made her think of the silent sigh as a blade slipped through human flesh – a sensation she had felt too often.

She mentally shook herself, and checked her position quickly; there were about three pillars between her and Lord of Death. There was just under a hundred yards behind that led to where the Masters and Ruriko were, but she had this feeling that it somehow knew something was around, and was on the alert. Lord of Death couldn't see her, but it was aware of some kind of presence.

She slowly backed herself into the wall, not noticing its warmth, and quickly muttered the Hiding spell. She couldn't move when she was underground, but if she slipped into a wall, she could edge her way along it. She faded into the wall behind her, and, with slow progress, made her way back through the corridor of stone.

x-x-x

Ruriko cast her anxious eyes around, naturally apprehensive. She didn't want Draco to go near that thing on her own. Normally, it was the other way round, and Ruriko was always the little sister who Draco had to protect.

She stamped her feet impatiently; it felt like the world had slowed down to a halt. It seemed like an eternity that she and the Masters sat there waiting.

Fortunately, Draco soon emerged from a nearby wall, wearing a slightly sickened look on her face.

"It looks like some kind of knight, and the armour seems to be of the same design Pronteran Knights, only much, much older," she began. "It's about fifteen feet tall, and that's when it's mounted on a horse."

"We'll surround it," said Zeta, in his chillingly deep voice. "We'll just cast our most powerful spells. Draco, we need you to keep it busy while we're casting, but as soon as we unleash the spells…"

"Get the Hel out of the way," she interjected, which a slight smirk. "I know, I know; it's all in a day's work."

The Masters of Yuno sprinted knowingly ahead, Ruriko pounding after them. In a blur of time, she saw them form a circle around the strange gigantic white horseman, which Draco had attacked.

Draco, however, was clearly struggling; her eyes were wide, and though her assault was both swift and powerful, it wasn't affecting Lord of Death, other than further aggravating it. It held a heavy bone-white blade in one hand that sent tremors through the ground where it struck and shattering the stone, gaping black cracks spreading over the floor. And she was barely dodging it – she was constantly buffeted back by the force of its attacks.

Ruriko panicked slightly, giddy on the feeling of battle. She ran around it, a little spasm of fear coursing through her as Lord of Death made as if to attack her, but Draco sprang in front of it and stabbed it hard in it's face, twisting her blades in a sharp and quick movement as she yanked them out. It didn't even flinch.

The little sage was muttering the chant under her breath, not sure if she would remember the rhyme to summon the Lord of Vermillion. It was, in fact, a most advanced wizard spell, and she found it difficult, as it was not like most spells where she could improvise small bits of the chant if she forgot. And it required great mental discipline, which most certainly was not her forte; she seeped every ounce of her will and her mind into her spell, a little voice jeering _you're going to screw this up_.

"_I call to you, Lord of Vermillion, the sage, Ruriko. Reach out from Muspelheim and use this human to channel your power. Deliver this tyrant to their doom. Let them not see again this world's skies – the moon in all her glory; the stars, guardians of the night; the sun ablaze. Let flames come forth and-…" Ah… no! What do the flames do? They… oh uh… oh no…… oh! Right, "…end their living days. Take them to the Lady Hel. Leave their soul no peace. I pray thee, burn. And so I fell."_

With a feeling of a satisfaction, Ruriko watched as her spell ignited itself in a brilliant blaze, along with twelve others. Draco had leapt away with a graceful back flip, landing next to Orius. There was an amazing flash of lightning bolts, streaks of red flame, and splinters of ice, all glittering gold and silver and red. A merciless soaring of magic ripped through the air, all blazing around Lord of Death. The sky that was always tinged crimson became a wonderful midday blue for a few seconds.

But from the charred and blackened ground came a shriek. It tore the very atmosphere in two, cleaving through the wind. So bitter and so enraged, Lord of Death staggered to it's feet, crying and screaming at unimaginable pitches, making Ruriko throw her hands defensively over her ears; it was the most awful piercing screech. Black glutinous blood poured from gaping wounds and cracks in its armour, glistening horribly. It took a few of its deep, rattling breaths, screamed once more and tore off, the horse making flaws in the ground with feet that ran with no rhythm.

"Why's it going off north?" asked Fieri incredulously, her wand still trailing fire whenever she moved it.

"It's safer there than it is here, and we can expect it back," mused Orius with a frown. "And we need to get back up to the school."

"But how did it survive?" Jigan half shouted. "I mean, we have an assassin stabbing it in the head non-stop and thirteen of the most powerful of the mage class casting all of the greatest spells all at the same time. _Nothing_ should have survived that! Does anyone even realize the scale of what that thing has just gone through?"

"It just had endurance," replied Draco, a little sharply. "A lot, I'll grant, but sooner or later we had to run into something like this."

"It had way too much endurance," he whimpered back.

-X-X-

It would be one day before they reached Comodo, and for some reason, Kyo was frightfully nervous. A few days ago, they had received a letter from Hawk and Taiken telling them that the headmistress of the school wanted to meet Kyo, as apparently it was a much bigger favour they were asking than they had thought. At the end of the note, there was a puzzling little P.S, no doubt written by Taiken, begging them to call Hawk "Hawky-poo," and ignore all grunts and evil looks and lectures they got, "because he loves it really."

She had been inwardly flushed when Alder landed on her rather than Oshi or Chisel; he may have known them longer, but this little gesture made it clear that Hawk thought of her as the better friend.

But now she wanted to make the perfect impression on her hopefully-soon-to-be teachers. Even if they wouldn't show it, the God's Cry would still be staggeringly disappointed, and she would just shrink back into a useless little girl who may or may not have some relevance to their fate. She was being given a chance to be something other than that, to physically be able to make a real difference – a _real _difference, not just the person who washed the dishes or something else exasperatingly mundane – and there was no way she could let herself mess this up.

Chisel and Oshi were sat in a cabin next to hers, they being gentlemen (at least, Chisel was a gentleman, and Oshi would just go along with it.) Her cabin was quite spacious, once she'd moved the furniture around a bit, and she was going over the steps of a few dances she had been learning at Arie School of Dance. The one she was doing at the moment was southern style: fast, exotic, and full of twirls and hip shaking. As one of Kyo's teachers had put it, she had "snake-like hips," and so she generally favoured tunes that had a very definite rhythm. However, another teacher had told to go for the more "slow flowy things"; something about graceful eloquent movements.

She tried to keep her mind on the click of her sandals and the slow sway of her hips, but she kept trying to find flaws in herself. _You can't perform, you dolt. Who wants a dancer who can't perform. _Well, I've changed since then, she thought to herself, gritting her teeth. And I will perform. I'll sing too.

x-x-x

"Don't you think it's weird?"

"Hmm?"

Chisel thought he was hearing things for a second; he'd become used to the "incomplete" silence, as he liked to put it, that came with staying with Oshi for long periods of time. But Oshi, at this time, had most definitely asked him a question.

"What's weird?"

"Kyo," was the whispered reply, uttered so low that Chisel wasn't sure he'd heard it correctly.

"What about her?"

"Her "magical talent." She really should have been carted off to Geffen or the chapel in Prontera with that kind of ability."

"She hinted she would've quite liked to have been a mage, but from what I've heard, she's a good dancer."

"I'm not hinting at her caste," interjected Oshi sharply. "I mean I think it's a little bit more than just talent. It's only a hunch, but…"

He trailed off, leaving a buzzing pause on the air.

"…But what?"

"Well, she was sure about this thing with the monsters, and… well… I thought it was fear, honestly… but remember when I suggested we move closer to Phreeoni, and she instantly said that it would spot us? I'm not sure it was fear…"

"Are you saying that Kyo can… see into the future or something?"

"I'm not saying anything yet. I'm just offering my opinion, and my opinion is that we should keep an eye on her with things like this."

Chisel thought about it for a minute; he'd never thought much of the self-proclaimed fortune-tellers who travelled Midgard, forecasting the health of farm animals and the weather. It was impossible to predict the future; it wasn't as if the rest of eternity was all written and planned. It just made him feel so useless and insignificant that he had no control over his life – that he was just following some set script. No… when the sun rose tomorrow, it would be a fresh new day, and he would live it as he chose.

"I think I'll set her some kind of test, just to check," mused Oshi, with a slight smirk. "But Chisel, she must not know what we are trying to find out. She can't be aware of what she is doing. And she doesn't know anything about it herself."

"And you know that how?" said Chisel blandly. He wasn't sure whether to laugh, frown, or look serious; Oshi was maybe assuming a bit too much.

"It's called speculation, blacksmith."

"… Blacksmith has a name."

-X-X-

Hawk spent most of his time around the harbour, waiting for Kyo's boat to arrive. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he missed her quite a bit. When he rescued her, it was like she owed him something, which he knew she would repay. In a way, it was kind of territorial, though he didn't like to use such a primitive word. She was quite dependent on him, and he didn't want to… let her down. His mother had always said: a friend in need is a friend indeed. And Kyo was certainly the closest thing he had had to a best friend.

Taiken's suggestions that it was something more made him snort. But when the bard had been assuring Aravis that Kyo was indeed a beautiful girl, he found himself unable to open his mouth and agree without going overboard.

"Hey Hawk!"

Hawk turned around, and found Taiken there with a couple of youngsters, who, looking at their attire, could only be students at the school. There were two dancers and a bard.

He thought back to their conversation with Aravis, and her brief mentioning of her daughter, and picked her out immediately. One of the dancers was most certainly Tassy, a slender, fine-featured blond girl with bright blue eyes and pale skin. The other girl had long supple brown curls and bronzed skin. The bard had messy red hair and stunning amber eyes, and a slight swagger to his walk.

"Aren't we an anti-social little hunter today," said Taiken in a mock-exasperated voice. He took a seat next to Hawk on the wall he had taken to sitting on. Here, he had a clear view of the boats docking in, and he kept away from the crowds, so the amount of women giving him the "why hello there" look (as Taiken called it) was greatly reduced.

"What's up," he replied blandly, with a cynical smile.

Taiken grinned, and his companions were regarding Hawk with interest.

"How come I haven't met him yet?" asked the tanned dancer, eying Hawk keenly.

"Because you're scary," said Taiken, giving her a playful little shove. "Hawk, this is Kura. The bimbo is Tassy and this cocky git over here is Leo."

The dancers were giggling and looking at him eagerly, and Leo stepped forward and shook his hand.

"Taiken says you're awesome at archery," he said quite abruptly. "How awesome are we talking?"

Hawk thought for a moment, thinking he'd like to throttle Taiken. "Well, I haven't ever had to say anything about my own technique."

"Well, Leo's by far the best shot of the seniors," mused Kura. "I'm guessing he doesn't want the competition."

Taiken laughed. "Oh please! With Hawk, there is no competition. Even against other hunters, he'll beat them hands down. Show them, Hawk."

Hawk was a little taken aback, but started looking for some kind of impressive target. His gaze fell upon a cherry blossom tree about a hundred yards away. It wasn't shedding its petals yet, but he could see at least one that was starting to detach itself.

He reached for his bow, absent-mindedly tightening the string and notching an arrow to it. He was aware of the others turning to look at his target.

"That petal," was all he said. He barely needed to take time with his aim, just raise his bow slightly. He didn't think it much of a shot; as the petal fell, he let it glide down a bit, then fired, his arrow piercing it and pinning it back against the tree.

He slung his bow back over his shoulder, choosing to ignore the looks the musicians were giving him; he didn't know if they were surprised, impressed, incredulous…

He instead focused his attention on the boat that was now docking into the harbour, milling with tourists. He was delighted when Alder emerged from the deck somewhere (much to the surprise of the passengers) and flew over to join him. The falcon greeted him with a little nip on the ear, then began soaring through the air above his head. He looked intently at the teeming crowds for Kyo, Chisel and Oshi.

-X-X-

Hawk was a little apprehensive about Kyo's meeting with Aravis, but it seemed to him that he was being so for her sake, as she seemed completely calm about it. He walked next to her, along with Tassy. On Kyo's arrival, she had practically jumped on her, exclaiming how happy she was that she would finally have a roommate.

He didn't doubt Kyo's abilities as a dancer, but he was quite chilled by the way Aravis had called the entire thing "a bit of a tall order." And they still needed to teach her archery, at least the skills for a basic archer, since she knew already how to hold a bow and arrow.

They passed the pastel coloured marble main hall, and Taiken and Leo were leading them deeper into the school, through a wide corridor to where the section of the building with the classrooms and studios was.

The group entered one of these rooms: a wide, well lit panelled room lined all the way round with mirrors. Aravis and the other eleven instructors were assembled there, all tall and beautiful and superior. All knew much better than he whether or not Kyo was capable of attending Comodo School of Music and Dance.

"Ah, Kyo, I presume," said Aravis, rushing forward and taking Kyo by both her hands. Kyo bowed, making the elder woman smile. "I like her already. But we need a little more than that. Now Kyo…" she began. Kyo stood as if to attention, like a knight at the beck and call of their lord. "You went to Arie School of Dancers, yes? At what stage were you at?"

There was silence for a moment. "I haven't learnt any dances that involve magic," replied Kyo evenly. "But I had learnt all of the dances solely for performance on the syllabus."

"And what were your favourites?"

"Well…" Another pause. "I did like a lot of the southern style dances, and I was the only one in my class who could really do that whole hip shake thing. I'm quite good with batons and sword dances. Now that I think about it, I was good at pretty much all of them, but those were the ones I really enjoyed." She sounded genuinely surprised.

"And you can sing?"

"I think so. I haven't done so since I was quite young."

"You still are young, child."

"I think she's a dream come true, quite frankly, Aravis," said one of the bards, who leant casually against the wall.

"She certainly sounds it," mused Aravis, smiling. "Would you mind performing for us? It's naturally what we were expecting."

20


	6. Seeing All and Seeing Nothing

_Seeing All and Seeing Nothing_

Kyo tensed visibly for a second or two, but calmly managed to reply, "Any particular tune or style, Miss?"

Aravis took a moment of silence to think, then from within the vast sleeves of her thin black coat drew a pair of blood red castanets. Hawk felt that he should probably question this, but when he saw that Taiken made no reaction nearing surprise, he kept quiet.

Kyo took them, obviously nervous, and held them as if they were made of glass. She clicked them a few times, as if testing them, then strode to an open space at the other end of the room. He saw her frown at her own reflection, and she kept her eyes carefully away from her audience.

He watched, curious, verging on confused. Suddenly the bards and dancers around him seemed incredibly superior to him, watching Kyo with knowing eyes.

With a final breath, she made a movement so deft and sudden, the castanets making a rippling click, and she stood gracefully with her arms in a careful arc above her. A pause, and she moved again, stepping forward, swinging her arms down to the small of her back. As the ribbons on her dancers garb fell to stillness, she began her flow again, this time not ceasing, the castanets continuing their tantalising clicking.

The smooth clapping resonated through the room, her toes pointed and her hips twisting and flowing. Her feet made rhythmic little steps, scuffing and stamping, and her arms made quick and snapping movements with each click.

He was mesmerised; every arc of her arms, every clap of her hand, every tap of her toe, every flick of her hip… he couldn't tell where to look, as every bit of her was part of such graceful and sure motion. His entire being went blank, completely lost in the wonderful spirit of this new intoxicating Kyo.

She came to a deft halt, her legs and torso still for a tingly moment, before the click of the castanets came rolling in and she swirled her hips in elegant swooping circles. She then tapped her sandals rhythmically a few more times, made the final resonating clicks of the little instruments in her hands, an eloquent turn, a stamp of her foot and a swirl of her hand, and she was finished.

She stood tall and amazing, a healthy flush in her cheeks, one hand on her hip and the other delicately hung over her head. If Hawk had tried before to pretend not to notice how beautiful she was, he couldn't now. Her coppery hair had a brilliant sheen, the braid it was in swaying with her slightest movements. Her waist was slim and smooth, and there was a definite feminine curve in her hips. Her heart-shaped face was framed with velvety strands of hair, her eyes so vivid and bright. In fact, everything about her was just so… so… _perfect_.

Everyone was clapping, and Hawk joined them, a genuine smile over his features. Chisel was whooping, Taiken was whistling and Tassy was jumping up and down like a lunatic (Hawk wondered briefly if she was a blonde clone of Ruriko.) Kyo let out a breath she was apparently holding in and relaxed, smiling somewhat sheepishly.

"A true gypsy in the making," exclaimed an instructor, beaming.

"Truly," agreed Aravis, making Hawk inwardly leap with joy. "I'd say you have what it takes to join our school, Miss Kyo. And my daughter can stop whining about her lack of a roommate. I do believe we can initiate you into our lessons in three days."

Kyo was nodding very fast, wearing an irremovable smile.

"This way, please," said one of the dancers in a smooth, low voice. She took Kyo by the shoulders and led her out.

x-x-x

As night crept in, Taiken went on his annual walk with Tassy. She had been a little girl when he had gone to school, and almost regarded him as an uncle or a cousin. The pair ambled along the beach, Tassy talking energetically about what had happened since he last visited, making him feel nostalgic his time at the school, the soothing waves gently clapping against the shore. The once golden beach was now a just a murky strip of sand, stretching forever, the sky above them silken blue, the clouds violet swirls and the stars just winking themselves awake.

The dancer was going over some of the strange things they did in acting arts classes; Comodo placed a lot of emphasis on music, but it was a school of the performing arts. She gabbled about a "spon-spon imp" – sponsored spontaneous improvisation – a random performance in which they were given one line, and from it they would make up a scene as they went along. He missed doing them; it was just impossible to not go over the top, and they were always hilarious.

"I got paired up with Leo, and you know what he's like," she explained, rather quickly. "He decided to thwack me across the face, then dispose of the evidence. So he dragged off by my feet, and then he dropped me, which really hurt, and looked all "argh!" then said, "It's me sweetheart!" Then I yelled, "You're not my real mother!""

"Oh, ancient gods, I bloody hope not," he laughed.

"You know, I'm quite jealous of Kyo," she said out of nowhere.

"Why?"

"Well, that dance she did was amazing, but um…" She bit her lip and looked around nervously, checking that the beach was truly empty. "Did you see the way that Hawk looked at her? Are they in love? Are they _married_?"

He blinked, a little astonished, then laughed. "No, they're not married," he replied. "It's a bit of a lengthy tale, and it all starts with the way Hawk is. He doesn't trust. At all. We've been friends for two years, but I don't think he trusts me. Now, he stumbles upon Kyo somewhere along the northern border, injured, incapable of moving, kind of delirious, and all in all, a little doomed. And you what he does? He picks her up and carries her about a hundred miles back to our HQ."

Tassy made a girly little gasping noise and placed her hands over her heart. "Aww… that's so cute! And slightly physically impossible…" She paused. "But why? I thought he doesn't trust."

"Exactly. And he talks loads with her. He's said more to her than he has to the entire guild put together. And he tells her things that he would never tell us. Do you know he told her about his childhood? His_ childhood_? But as for the guild, the people he lives with, the people who quite frequently place their lives in his hands and vice versa, the people who are meant to be his comrades, for all we know, some teenage hunter could just have materialised in the middle of nowhere and somehow found us."

"Well, maybe she's like his best friend…"

"Ah, but now you mention this way he was looking at her. What was it like?"

"Amazed," she said instantly. "But he was smiling, quite faintly, like he was proud of her. And it looked like he was in a bit of a daze, like all he could see was her. It was all dreamy and adoring and… You had to see it, it was so cute!"

"I've gone all fuzzy inside," cackled Taiken.

"Oh no, Taiken. If they like each other like that, they'll get together on their own."

"We're talking about two of the shyest people on Midgard," he retorted incredulously.

"Hey Taiken!" someone called from further up the beach. Taiken whirled around, expecting it to be Hawk, arms folded over his chest, falcon looming above them, a cold and angry frown over his face, impatiently tapping his foot.

But it was Chisel, striding towards them, and, for some indiscernible reason, trailing his cart with him, for whatever reason.

"We have to go back up to the school quickly," he explained. "Official God's Cry business."

x-x-x

Finally, Chisel and Taiken trudged through the double doors of the vast dance practise room. Hawk turned to look at Kyo, tense and leaning uneasily against the wall. She shrunk back into the humble and shy young woman, but Hawk thought she looked different since he'd seen her dance.

"Are you OK?" he asked, frowning. Alder took off from his shoulder and hovered around the air in front of her. She held out an arm, on which the bird landed, running her hands through its feathers, and holding it like a newborn child.

She didn't turn to face him, but she whispered back, "I don't know. I'm not sure I want to be here, but I have to stay. It's important, I think."

He nodded, still watching her.

"Firstly, when we get home, we have to go down into Anthell and kill a big pink blobby thing that's lurking around in there," said Chisel.

"A giant poring?" asked Taiken innocently.

"Not exactly. It was huge, hungry and it called itself Phreeoni. It kicked Oshi's arse when he first met it. It's definitely a lot more powerful than your average creature."

"Hmm… Anything else we should know about it?" asked Hawk.

"It acts like a leader," replied Kyo. "It orders the other creatures what to do, and they do it."

"Fair enough, fair enough. So what else?"

"I would like to point out," announced Chisel. "That this is Oshi's idea, and I'm just going along with it because he's a stubborn git."

Oshi snorted. "Kyo, forward please."

Reluctantly, Kyo lifted herself from her leaning place and walked to the centre of the room in front of Oshi, and Alder flew in a graceful arc back to its master. The assassin took a heavy dark fabric, walked around her and tied it over her eyes, whispering something in her ear as he went. Hawk felt something unpleasant stir in his chest.

Oshi quickly waved his hand in front of her face to check that she couldn't see. He then strapped a small round shield to her arm, took a plain wooden cane in his hands, and stood about ten metres from her.

"Remember Kyo: listen to your intuition, and trust it. Do that, and I shouldn't be able to hit you," he told her. _Hit her?_ She nodded and stood ready.

Oshi began moving, strafing slowly around her. Hawk tried to listen for the assassin's footsteps, and found only silence.

With no breeze to be betray him, Oshi raised the cane over his head, his narrow eyes fixed vigilantly on Kyo, who clasped the shield on her arm tightly with her free hand. Stepping silently still, he ran at her from her left, blindingly fast, and brought his weapon tearing down through the air. Hawk was thinking of intervening, but with a hollow thud, she spun around and blocked the attack.

Hawk blinked; Kyo was blindfolded, and Oshi hadn't made the slightest noise when he advanced. There was a satisfied smile on his face, and he struck again – a horizontal swipe, which she deflected. He struck from above, the right, above again, and she deflected them. The left, the right, a thrust, then he commenced a myriad of attacks too fast to see, and she deflected all of them. He then stood in his normal fighting stance, and attacked, his arms and his weapon becoming a blur of strikes and swipes, so rapid and deadly. Hawk thought quickly, with a slight wince, of his own close-quarter fighting, which left quite a lot to be desired.

But Oshi's weapon never struck its target. Kyo was able to strafe around most of the attacks, and block the ones that were too wide to dodge. If Hawk didn't know any better, he would have thought that she was faster than Oshi. All the time, she retained her natural dexterous grace that came with her craft. She was so deft and precise; she looked like she was dancing again.

Oshi swiped heavily to the left, which Kyo dodged, then suddenly, she raised her foot and with a swift and powerful kick sent his weapon out of his grasp and straight up into the air. He looked surprise, but wasted no time in lifting his other arm to catch it. Whether she saw or not was not important, as she quickly leapt up and landed on his forearm. Stood on the tips of her toes, she clasped her shield with both hands, holding it like a racket, and swung it around. It collided with the cane, sending it flying to the other end of the room.

She stepped down from his arm and removed the blindfold, a pant in her breath and a flush in her cheeks.

"Am I OK?" she asked, her eyes a little wide and anxious. "Did I pass?"

"_OK_?" scoffed Taiken incredulously. "You just sparred with Oshi and won… _blindfolded_."

"Oh… sorry," she said, bowing her head a little.

"Honestly woman," laughed Chisel teasingly. "What are we going to do with you."

She smiled. "Is it alright if I go to sleep now? It's just it's been a bit of a long day, and-…"

"Yes, I'll show you to your room," said Taiken, striding forward and grabbing her by the arm. "You know Kyo, you're way too polite…"

As Taiken's voice faded out of earshot, Hawk looked to Chisel and Oshi for an explanation.

"What was that all about?" he asked, his voice unwillingly faint.

"We're not sure," replied Chisel evenly.

"I think we need to take her to the Masters of Yuno, or at least Ruriko," murmured Oshi.

"But… how?" Hawk whispered, a little dazed, Alder's soothing presence not reaching his brain. "How did she do it? I know she had more than enough potential to enter the mage caste, but only with proper magical training should she have been able to sense you. And she couldn't see through that blindfold… Could she hear you?"

"Could you?"

-X-X-

Draco was still unnerved about the encounter with Lord of Death, no matter how much she tried to not be so. In all actuality, they had the upper hand and should have pursued, but it was just too difficult to believe that it had been able to survive the bout.

She sat in her bedroom at Yuno, twirling numerous throwing knives over her deft fingers, waiting for her hair to dry from her bath. It was strangely soothing; the sharp glitter of the little blades, the silent breath on the air as she fanned them out in her palm, the fact that they were always close at hand…

She sat there for an indeterminable period of time, her eyes glazed and her mind blank, apart from the instinctive awareness of her environment. There was a shy little knock at the door, which she replied with a bland "come in."

The door was edged open, and Ruriko stepped through, wearing a long white silk nightdress. She looked strange without her witch's hat and thick gloves and boots.

"Is something the matter, little sister?" Draco asked, keeping her vision on her knives.

"I just can't sleep," Ruriko replied after a pause.

"A little scared by Lord of Death?"

She nodded.

"Fair enough," Draco said evenly. "But I intend on talking to you about Akiro."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ruriko tense visibly, making her smile. Ruriko stood where she was for a while, but sat on the bed next to Draco.

"One thing though, Sis?" she asked timidly.

"What's that then?" whispered Draco, putting an arm around the little sage.

"Could you put those knives down? You're really creeping me out…"

Draco laughed, but did as requested without a word.

As the silence ticked on, a silence she suspected was horribly awkward for Ruriko, the younger said, "What about Akiro?"

Draco scoffed. "Do you _like_ him?"

"He's my friend."

"OK, Ruriko, you misunderstand. I mean _like_ as in _love_."

"Well, Sis, I love you, and I love Orius, so I guess…"

"This is a different kind of love," interjected Draco quickly, not sure how to explain her point. "This is more about one person to devote yourself entirely to. That's why people get married; because they want to be with each other forever."

"But I want to be with you forever, Sis. Life without you, Sis, would be like… not life."

"This is still different." She was sure if Ruriko was "too young and innocent" to hear of the tumultuous and rapid world of passion and romance. "This is the kind of love where you express your feelings physically."

"You mean like how we kiss and hug?"

"This is a bit more physical than that…"

"This is really confusing," whined Ruriko, pouting. "It sounds like how I love you and our friends, but you make it sound so different."

"Well, that's exactly what it is. You're growing up, and you will learn about it, one way or another."

"I thought I was grown up."

"Fifteen is not a very big number, sweet sister."

Ruriko frowned, and shifted back to the original topic. "So what does Akiro feel?"

"Well," laughed Draco. "Why don't you ask?"

Ruriko looked startled, and her mouth floundered with silent and pointless protests.

"Exactly," declared the older woman, taking the other by the shoulders and steering her along on her way. "Just go and ask him. What's the worst thing he could do?" she whispered assuredly as Ruriko strode away, obviously tense. She would ask him; she knew there was no way of getting around it.

Draco smiled, and remembered the first and last time she had been in love. She remembered being a simple teen, only knowing what it was like to live on the streets, and he came, and with no sense and no restraint she went everywhere with him. She remembered that suddenly one day she knew that she felt something special. She remembered that suddenly she'd blurted it out, and just as suddenly, he had swept her up in his arms and kissed her with everything he felt.

She shook herself out of her memories, remembering how everything had fallen apart. She just smiled at the silken figure, whose heart was on the same voyage, melting into the shadows of the school's stone corridors.

She turned back to her throwing knives, trying to not think of her first love. And of course, trying to not think about him made her think about him…

And the broken heart he had left her…

x-x-x

Ruriko pounded across the cold stone floors, dazed, and an incomprehensible buzz running through her mind. She was fitfully curious about what Akiro would say, but so very horribly nervous about asking him in the first place. And where the Hel was she supposed to find the courage to ask him such a question? She felt so young and ignorant. _Fifteen is not a very big number._

And in her ignorance, she'd long sunk from her certainty. Would she like what she heard? Would she even ask? And if she asked, what if something _happened_ between them and she didn't have any control over it? Would it even be a bad thing if it did? What if it destroyed "them", and she could never love him again, as a friend or…?

She nearly walked headlong into Akiro's door, then wondered whether she should knock or not. She raised her arm, but kept drawing it back, biting her lip. _Should I?_

Her knuckle collided with the door; the knock sounded so strange that it made her jump and wonder if it was real.

There was a sleepy groan that sounded like "come in." He'd answered! _Well, what did you expect?_ Everything was so difficult… She clamped a stiff hand around the door handle and tugged, and strode into the darkness.

"Hello," said Akiro from his bed, not masking his surprise. She saw with a twang of guilt that she'd woken him up.

"Sorry," she muttered quickly. "I didn't mean-…"

"Don't worry about it," he replied, just as quickly. "Was there something the matter?"

"I just can't sleep," she said with a shrug, inwardly wincing. _How stupid do you sound… _She sat on the corner of his bed. It was only then that she became very aware of just how conspicuous she was in her nightdress, and that it probably made her look quite pretty.

"Just not tired?"

"Well, you know how Lord of Death survived that fight thing we had with it and it shouldn't and you and the Masters are the bestest magic people on Midgard and Sis is so very strong and we battered the living Hel out of it and it really really should've died but it didn't?" she gabbled in one breath.

"… Yes."

"And remember when we were looking for it and we couldn't find it and then I looked again and I found it and then I was in its mind and then I guess I must have gone all weird but it wasn't very nice being in its head because it was so obsessed with killing and it thought that it needed to kill or else it would die or something if it didn't kill and Fieri had been in its head before and she was so very explicit about us getting rid of it because of that?"

In the dim silvery light of that lamps neither had bothered to ignite, she saw him sit up, smiling. She also saw that his chest was bare and his hair was down, and she realized with a prick of amazement that she had never seen any of these things before. She turned away, feeling the heat rise in her face, but not quickly enough to notice the strong build and charming smile.

She sensed his gaze on her as they both sat in the most soothing of silences. After perhaps a second or more, he laughed quietly.

"What?" she asked, startled.

"You speak so fast. I thought you were going to run out of breath and pass out."

She wasn't sure how to reply to that; she felt that maybe she should smile, but that would involve looking at him, which she didn't dare do. So she just smiled to herself.

"You don't need to worry about it. Orius says he's going to keep a nerve out for it, and the next time we meet it, it'll go splat, see?"

She laughed; that sounded like the kind of thing she would say.

"And besides, do you think Draco will let that thing touch you? Or Orius? Or the Masters? Or me? I won't let that thing get anywhere near you."

x-x-x

He realized now that he was the one gabbling, and that he'd said too much. He kept his head down, but could see her smiling still. If he thought he was nervous about being around her, it was nothing compared to now. _Oh, ancient gods, help…_

And of all the things she could've worn… She looked so many years older, but so vulnerable and delicate, her hair shining in the silver of the moon behind the window. _Please, just open up a hole in a ground and let me fall. Seriously._

He expected her to scoff, or laugh, or get up and leave. But he found her slender little hands clasping his. He felt himself blush, and tentatively lifted his eyes to meet her gaze, as usual taken aback by her intensity.

"You mean it?" she whispered.

Relieved, he relaxed and smiled, unaware up until now how tense he was. He nodded.

"Really?"

He nodded again.

"Really really?"

"Yes, you daft woman," he laughed, squeezing her hands lightly. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled more, and she returned the little gesture. Then without any warning whatsoever, she flung her arms around his middle and rested her cheek over his heart. He blinked a few times, immensely surprised. Slowly, he edged his immobile hands down, and slipped his arms around her, one hand absent-mindedly stroking her hair, and the other held her waist, soft behind the silk.

"So you really care?" she said, her voice somewhat muffled against his chest. She ran her fingers over his collarbone, and her breath on his skin kind of tickled.

"About you? I care about you very much."

He felt her smile and lean more into him, a little rush of pleasure flying down his spine. _Is this real? _Maybe it was all a dream, and when he woke up, he wouldn't be able to say what he had said and hold her close. It definitely felt like a dream, but his heart beating like the wings of a swan inside him made him sure he was in the land of the awake.

He wanted so badly to kiss her, but he didn't know if she would like that; she seemed so happy at the moment, and he didn't want to ruin it. Although he kept running over the thought in his head, imagining how wonderful it would feel to have her lips pressed fondly to his… But in this case she should make the first move.

They lay there for quite some time, their breathing slow. Neither knew how long. He opened his eyes, admiring the way the silvery light fell in glowing ribbons over her features, the moon reflected in her eyes. She looked like a glorious celestial being, so beautiful and bright and pure; he thought he would never be worthy of her.

She reluctantly pulled away, smiling apologetically.

"Akiro?"

"Ruriko?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"I'm feeling much very better now."

She stood up, adjusting the straps of her nightdress and making her way towards the door.

"And Akiro?" she said quietly before she left. "I care too. About you. I care."

He nodded.

"Good night."

"You too," he whispered back, watching his Ruriko float out of view.

He couldn't remember every being so happy in his life. He'd told her he cared, and she was grateful. She was scared, and he'd made her feel strong again. _And she said she cared too._

Akiro was smiling so much that his face was beginning to hurt. He still had so many other things he needed to say to her, but he had at least said something. He'd managed to say something about his feelings. Maybe when he saw her next, they would talk more about their feelings, and they would hold each other, and then maybe he'd say "I love you" and…

He shook his head, feeling foolish, and he laughed inwardly at his soppy little imagination. A thought shaped like his mother told him in the most amazingly patronising tone possible to go to sleep.

-X-X-

"We've pilfered a couple of rooms from the Seniors dormitory for the next couple of days," Taiken explained off-handedly. "So I guess we'll stick you in with Tassy."

"OK," answered Kyo, her mind back in the studio where she had just… she didn't know, and she didn't like it. It felt so strange, seeing everything without seeing anything at all, sick with fright and wondering what this inhuman gift of hers was and whether she deserved it or not. Even if she could see more than everyone else, did it still mean she was… human? Her feet felt light, as if to dodge, but not to support her weight. There was still the anticipation of attack running through her, and she was so tried. She wanted nothing more than to lie down. "Taiken, what… was that?"

He remained silent for a about a second. "I don't think any of us are entirely sure."

At those words, she felt a heavy disappointment, though it wasn't a surprise. "Was it because you thought I could… see more?" She tried to keep the nervous quiver out of her voice. "Because honestly, I'm just a normal person. I was just lucky…" It sounded like a plea, and the words tasted false in her dry mouth.

Taiken shook his head behind her and sighed. "Kyo, you're a strong girl, but you're far too shy. It's important that you learn to be more self-confident."

Kyo said nothing; that's what she'd learnt to do when people told her she was too quiet. Her teachers at Arie had told her she was too shy and needed to be more self-confident. Her mother had said it, her friends had said it… Hel, even a travelling alchemist selling vitality potions had said it. She knew it was a problem; it was fairly obvious. But there are no lessons to be taken or books to be read on how to be confident. When there was a dance she couldn't do, she simply had a lesson on how to do it right. But this was a flaw in her character, something set deeply within her. And of course, it had remained so for too long. She felt something along both annoyance and despair. _"Just change the way you've been for most of your life." Sure Taiken._

"I know it's hard," he said apologetically, making Kyo wince at her previous spitefulness. "But really, you'll be much happier."

"I know," she sighed. "I just don't know how."

"You'll work it out. You're stronger than you think."

She turned to smile at him, and he did the same; a fond smile, as though they were brother and sister.

They came to a large ebony door engraved with "_Girl's Dormitory: Seniors_" in grand silver letters. Below it hung a piece of paper with seven names written in various brightly coloured inks – she quickly spotted Tassy's and Kura's – and around it was littered sweet little schoolgirl doodles. In the centre, in red swirled handwriting, was a message:

"_We are the dancers of Comodo,  
__The most dexterous and beautiful,  
__The most vexing and graceful.  
__We laugh and we smile and we enchant.  
__Come! Stay a while. Watch us dance,  
__For we are the dancers of Comodo._

_(And yes, we do indeed have breasts. One more word about them and we'll relocate your nuts.)"_

They strode through the door, Kyo still frowning at the notice (or maybe just the last line.) The corridor was set out in floor-length wooden panels that served as frames for grand and elegant paintings. She set her eyes on one of a scene over a river. A score of dragonflies fluttered over the silvery ripples, their wings shimmering and lovely, and each a crackling jade green in colour. The reeds that erupted from unseen roots rose tenderly above the water's surface, their pale curved edges soft and sharp. A wonderful crane was landing, in half flight, wings buffeting the water and each feather delicately and lovingly stroked onto the scene. Every line, every curve, every shadow… it was so beautiful. She expected it to spring to life; it was more than easy to see the crane continue its landing, stirring the wind over the river, which would ripple and rush, its vibrant host of dragonflies darting and dancing through the air. If she went and ran her fingers along the bird's neck, she would feel soft feathers; that star alight in its eye couldn't lie. It had to be real.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" said Taiken, from somewhere seemingly faraway. It was only now that Kyo realized that she had stopped and lost all awareness of… _everything_. Except the painting.

"Who painted them?"

"There's an old story," he replied quietly. "Note: only a story. Not necessarily true." He sighed. "But I like to think that is true. They say that a couple of hundred years ago, maybe more, a travelling merchant stumbled along a church one cold and stormy night, starved and tired. A girl who worked at the church – an acolyte in training to become a priest – found him and brought him there. He stayed there for four years – until he was eighteen, in fact."

"He didn't leave?"

"He fell in love with the acolyte. Anyway, she loved him too, and they were in love, and very happy together. But one day, he received a letter from his mother, telling him that his father was dying; he had to return home, to become a blacksmith and continue the family business. He had to leave her. Of course, he begged her to go with him. But was to become a priestess, and insisted that she couldn't abandon her religion. He said the same thing about his family and left, and eventually earned his permit to be a blacksmith.

"She became a priestess, but she also carried his child, which she hid, since they weren't married and the child would be illegitimate. But one night, he came to her in a dream, and he said it would be their last night together. And the next morning, she received a letter from his mother, telling her that he was dead. Not more than a few days after that, she bore him a daughter. When the child was born, the church took it from her and the baby was taken to be raised as a serving girl somewhere. She left. It's said that she took off her priestess garb, tore where her heart was when she wore it, poured blood on it, and ran out of the church, bearing a new name, her hair cut short and wearing a novice girls outfit. She wanted to start again, and in her sadness she became an artist, and these are hers."

All of Kyo's energy from her fight with Oshi ebbed away; it didn't feel right to be so anxious after hearing the story. She turned back to the crane over the water, feeling herself slipping into a beautiful and elegant world carved by hands that shook with grief.

As they went through the corridor, she kept her eyes carefully down away from the walls, afraid to be lost again in the world so real and gentle, afraid that the artist's remorse was contagious. She wondered if all art would now remind her of loss and despair.

They came to a pale door, and stopped. Taiken reached out and gingerly knocked, snapping the silence. There were few long strides heard, and it was flung open, and there stood Tassy, smiling and holding a hairbrush.

"Tassy, Kyo will be sleeping in your room for next three nights," he said.

"Taiken, we only arranged it a couple of hours ago," she replied, pale red lips curved into a smirk. "I do have a memory span greater than that of a mandragora."

Though Kyo had only known Tassy for half a day, she had to admit she admired her. For a start, she possessed a kind of shining exotic beauty that Kyo could never hope to achieve. She had sleek silvery blonde hair that fell to her waist, and vivid pale blue eyes. Her wrists, neck and even her ankles were adorned with glittering rings of gold, and two heavy earrings were glistening beneath the cascade of shining hair. She wore the expected dancers garb, but she also wore translucent pink trousers over her, the form of her limbs still visible through them but a definite rosy sheen with the material. The stream of fabric that fell over the back of her legs was a more peachy pink in hue, and lined with tassels. She carried a lustrous ribbon around her shoulders, which was pink in some parts of the light, white in others.

She turned to Kyo, smiling, and said softly, "Come in."

Kyo nodded absent-mindedly, and stepped in. The floor was clear, but the surfaces were fairly cluttered. The walls, ceiling and floor was pure white, but with the mismatched furniture and various young girl's clutter, it didn't have the sterility that came with the colour. There were two beds at opposite sides of the room, an overlarge looking wardrobe, a small bookshelf and a desk.

"Wow, Tassy," said Taiken. "There's actually a floor beneath all your junk. And where are all your clothes? They're not _in _the wardrobe, are they?"

"Shut up, Taiken, before I make you eat your own fingers."

"… I see cotton swabs. Kyo! Don't look at the ear cleaning facilities!"

"Oh, honestly, Taiken… It was a _story_."

"You couldn't have thought of something that made a bit more sense though?"

"Well… no."

"So, when you girls take ages preening yourselves, is that what you're doing? _Swabbing_?"

Tassy smirked and closed the door on the cynical Taiken, who quickly called through the door, "I don't hear you denying it!"

She turned back to Kyo, smiling and mouthing the words, "Don't ask."

Tassy, though keen for a nice little girly chat, was courteous enough to let Kyo go straight to sleep. The bed was comfortable, and she lay there under the covers for a while, wondering why she was so happy. It wasn't that her performance had gone OK, it wasn't that she had experienced what it was to sing again, it wasn't her interesting new roommate…

She's missed Hawk when he'd left for Comodo; she'd felt… vulnerable when he wasn't there. She knew the others cared and were strong and capable, but she felt truly safe when Hawk was around. Now that they were near each other, her security returned.

She had also heard Taiken complain about the way Hawk spoke openly to her; she felt she could speak openly with him. For some reason, there was no shyness. She'd tried talking the same way to Oshi and Chisel, but it just didn't work; she just couldn't form the words. They hadn't had the opportunity to talk properly yet, but she felt so much better, just knowing that he was there.

She giggled to herself under the covers. She still didn't know why.

-X-X-

Ruriko ran a comb through her hair, humming and smiling. She was in such a good mood. She still felt tingly and surreal, as though she still lay in Akiro's arms. And she found she had unearthed feelings she never knew she had – she still had no idea what they were, but they were good feelings. She tried writing it down in her diary, but she'd taken up at least three pages gabbling about how it felt.

As was her routine when staying in Yuno, she headed straight out into town. Yuno was made up of three segments: The largest was the island of glory, Solomon, where the pillar of light was, and a great majority of the housing. The island of intelligence, Sonotora, was where the library and the academy were. On the northwest island, Mineta the island of prosperity, was a heaving market square, among other things, which sold a wide variety of "mage's tat" as Draco called it. Ruriko didn't go to the market to buy things; it's just all of the "mage's tat" was always so pretty. It was just nice to see, and it was normally interesting to hear some of the strange little tales and explanations behind each item.

It was still quite early, and there was a crisp chill hanging over the morning air. There were only a few people around at the moment, and each would greet her, "Good morning, Lady Ruriko."

She kept wondering why people called her "Lady"; Draco had told her that only the wives or daughters of lords were titled that. When she'd asked why the people of Yuno call her it, Draco just laughed and replied, "They're just showing their respect for you. Live with it."

So Ruriko shrugged inwardly and just greeted them back. There were few children out at this time, but there were a few early rising adults, who would more often that not walk up to her and shake her hand. She was still taken aback by it all, especially since a lot of these people were a lot older than her, and most likely a lot wiser.

She quickly checked her diary to see if there was anything she needed to get. She quickly discovered that she was almost out of Rodusha cards. Rodusha meant "wise one", and Yuno was often called the "_di rodusha sente_": the city of the wise one. The cards were a different way of casting. Normally, a magician would say their chant for a spell out loud, but the Rodusha cards had a unique way of channelling magical energy, and it was discovered that a spell could be written on the cards and the energy stored, and released at the caster's will. They were good for quick spells, and a favourite of sages, since the main quality of a sage was that they could summon all of the energy they needed for a spell instantly.

Wizards, on the other hand, spent a lot of time in deep concentration, and so a lot of them were normally incredibly patient and calm. Their spells were much more powerful, but a lot of the time, it involved a lot of complicated movement of energy, and a lot more willpower.

The Rodusha cards were often used as a means of emergency defence or healing, as the only thing that was needed to activate them was the usual state of mind when casting, and the words "_eno va shi stai_": _And so I fell. _No one knew why, but _stai _had to appear in every spell, and the phrase normally only appeared in its entirety in a wizard's spells.

She quickly checked her supply of gemstones, which sometimes had to be used to channel energy, because in certain spells, the energy channelled can sometimes be harmful to the caster. She didn't understand it fully, but she had cast such spells without gemstones, and it had hurt; it had really hurt.

She came to the market square just as they were setting up. She scanned the crowd for the red cheeks and black hair of Angar, a man who had spent the best part of forty years as a crusader, and now, in his early fifties, had decided he just wasn't up to it anymore. He was a kind man, and very tall. He also still possessed a lot of the strength that came with spending too much time in heavy clunky armour.

She spotted him quickly and headed over. He was knelt over a large basket of gemstones when she arrived. He turned to face her, and smiled.

"I thought you'd forgotten I was alive," he laughed. "How have you been?"

"Good good," she replied, shaking his hand, and as usual, thinking her arm would break. "How's Runa's swordsmanship going?" Runa was his daughter, who was planning on following in her father's footsteps.

"When she comes back you can ask her; she's a crusader now."

"Ooh! That's great! Does she like it?"

He laughed, patting her on the shoulder and returning to the setting up of his stall.

There was a clink of armour, and Ruriko wheeled around. This had to be Runa. She'd never met Runa before, but there was something of her father in her tallness and silvery eyes and her shiny black wavy hair. She had pale skin, and her eyes, nose and mouth were quite narrow. She carefully held a cup in her hands, which she handed to Angar, smiling.

"Thank you, Runa. I would like you to meet Ruriko," he said, taking a sip from the cup.

Ruriko smiled, a little nervously, she suspected. For some reason, crusaders always had this scary intimidating kind of aura about them. Maybe it was the armour…

"Hi. My father has told me a lot about you," Runa said, shaking Ruriko's hand. _What is it with swordsmen and their arm-breaking handshakes?_

"She's the strangest kind of sage you'll get," said Angar from his kneeling position.

"Hey! Fieri's way weirder than me."

"Ah, but she's a teacher, so the loss of her sanity is a necessity."

"You just wait 'til I tell her you said that," replied Ruriko in a mock-threatening voice.

Runa left for a few minutes to get breakfast, and they sat and talked. From what she gathered from their conversation, Ruriko discovered that Runa was surprisingly gentle, and patient. It had taken her a year to master the basics of healing, and yet she never gave up, and had now mastered it completely. Ruriko actually felt a little jealous, listening to some of things Runa had let as both a swordsman and a crusader. She was now explaining about a spell she had now mastered.

"The Grand Cross is a slightly irritating spell," she explained in her soft voice. "It is incredibly powerful, but it is considered dangerous. But there's no known catalyst."

"Eh?" said Ruriko, trying to ignore the way Angar was nodding like he knew what she was talking about.

"You use catalysts Ruriko, but they're not always called that," he explained. "The gemstones…"

"Oh, right!" Ruriko paused. Then she remembered the last time she'd tried to cast a shield without using the required gemstone. "That must really hurt. But for a spell that powerful…"

"Yes, it's almost fatal, and in some cases, it is," replied Runa. "Some places don't teach it anymore. The Pronteran chivalry isn't that keen on it either. Also, it's a little at excessive in strength to be used on most monsters, so a lot of time, a good sword swipe is all that's needed."

"Oh yeah, I remember why I came here now," exclaimed Ruriko suddenly. "I need a deck of Rodusha cards."

"Not a problem," said Angar, smiling. He handed Ruriko the cards, and she persuaded him to let her pay.

"How do they work?" asked Runa. Ruriko was surprised and explained, though she found she was pretty bad at it. But Runa listened attentively anyway.

But along her explanations, she suddenly had an idea; she could channel any kind of magic through the Rodusha cards, and she could write any rune she wanted. She frowned inwardly at the idea, thinking it sounded a little too easy, and kept ambling along with her explanation.

It was about midday when she made up her mind to at least try. It couldn't hurt to try, and even if it did, it would be nothing she couldn't handle. She left, Runa shouting "Nice meeting you!" as she went. She was in a bit of a daze, her mind more active than her body, part of her screaming to not take such a risk. She shrugged it off, already drafting out what she was going to write on the card.

She stood still in her room, her head pounding and a shake in her limbs. She looked at the Rodusha cards in her hand, her mind tracing the lines of the spell she would place in it. _If it was as easy as that, don't you think it would've already been done? _Ruriko brushed the thought away, trying to ignore it. After seeing Lord of Death, and hearing of Arie's destruction, she decided that she should try it. For the greater good.

She knelt down, and in red ink, drew a circle with seven segments. In the top she wrote the rune "monster", and in the segments either side of it, she wrote Arie, Kyo and the Clock Tower, and Lord of Death. In the bottom segment, she wrote Akiro and herself. Around it, in black ink, she wrote "_Iero profa_" which meant "total revelation."

She stood up, and began to concentrate on the questions she wanted answering, pouring her will into the card. It seemed a long time that she did so, and she felt tired when she had finished. She stood up, surprised to find herself staggering.

Runa talking about the Grand Cross spell put her in mind of risks and that she didn't know what kind of energy she was channelling. Most spells only required one or two gemstones; she took three, just in case.

Ruriko took deep, steadying breaths, feeling the tension falling out of her body as she gulped down mouthfuls of air. She checked her card again, making sure it's aura and runes were correct. She clasped the gemstones in her hand tightly.

"_Eno va shi stai._"

The card ripped itself apart in her hand and disappeared in a silvery wisp of light. She felt the gemstones heat up, and she opened her palm, and saw them glow. But something was wrong; they couldn't channel the energy. They shattered into sparks, making her gasp and step back.

But now, something gripped her. Her bones were rigid with pain; she couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. Her gasps for air were cut back to little chokes that gave her no relief. The most agonising hurt was ripping through her veins, her eyes wide. She tried to scream, but there was no voice in her throat. _Help, help, help…_ She sank into blackness, her vision searing out of focus.

21


	7. Lessons in Dance and in Monarchy

_Lessons in Dance and in Monarchy_

Ruriko felt consciousness swim back into her body, but she didn't know if it had taken a couple of seconds or even hours. There was a numbness pounding through her still. Slowly, so slow that she wasn't even sure it was happening, feeling drifted in. She felt a mattress beneath her, a hand clasping hers… _Oh ancient gods, my head hurts._

There were voices floating vaguely through the air around her, but they could have been the grunts of wild animals for all the sense they made. She struggled to listen, and her brain couldn't translate what was being said. As she sank further back into reality, she heard things become gradually clearer.

"… If we don't know what the spell was, we can't reverse it…"

_Spell? _Her memories edged back. But she couldn't listen and remember at the same time.

"It was almost definitely a spell with the cards, so it could've been anything."

_Cards? You mean the Rodusha cards?_

_Wait… I cast a spell with the Rodusha cards with Iero Profa, and then I screwed up, and…_

"Will she be OK?"

"We can't say yet. But we also don't know what's wrong with her."

_I'm fine! Just… tired. _

She tried to tell them to stop worrying, but she was so exhausted; just about any movement seemed impossible. She tried to remember what happened during the spell; she should have seen what she needed to know. But in her memories, she found only blurred shapes and sounds that fell in on themselves…

_I don't remember…_

_I knew everything I needed to, and I forgot it…_

She wanted to scream. Her frustration mounted up in waves of red, boiling and throbbing. _You idiot, you fucking idiot…_

"Ruriko… please be OK…"

_Akiro? _That was definitely Akiro's voice. And he sounded so upset… Tears welled up in her eyes as feelings she couldn't decipher coursed through her. And she knew what they were earlier. She didn't know when it was that she knew them; it could've been days ago. But she was in the dark about how she felt now. She didn't know.

_Look at the fuss you've caused… And for what?_

She squeezed the hand that held hers, finding no other way to let them know she was awake. The gasp she heard could only be Draco's.

"I think she's OK! Ruriko? Say something, sweetheart…"

_I can't! _She opened her mouth, but her voice was feeble and weak. She opened her eyes, which was surprisingly difficult. She was totally exhausted. Dim light streamed into her vision, and she was looking at the canopy of her bed. She heard more fuss around her, then felt a hand at her back lifting her into a sitting position. The curve of her spine was almost unbearable.

"Ruriko, drink this." It was Erita. Ruriko found a bottle pressed to her lips, and she was tilted back, her head swimming. A bitter, foul tasting concoction seeped over her tongue, making her shudder, and she automatically went to spit it out. But a strong hand was pressed firmly over her mouth, and another was holding her nose. She gave in quickly and swallowed it.

Almost instantly, her vision sharpened, and she found traces of strength in her limbs and an audible voice in her throat. The empty numbness ebbed away. She looked around and saw Orius and Akiro stood on one side of the bed, Draco sat next to her and holding her hand, Erita stood over her, and the other Masters in varying states of alarm around her. Her disappointment at her own failure thickened, and she felt heavier.

"Ruriko, are you OK?" asked Orius, placing a hand on her shoulder. Ruriko nodded, feeling anything but OK.

"What happened? What spell did you use?"

"_Iero Profa._"

"Complete revelation? What were you hoping for?"

"I wanted to know what happened at Arie, and why Kyo could escape, and what Lord of Death was."

"Did you find out? What did you see?"

Ruriko was convinced he would yell at her for forgetting; in fact, she thought he would yell for casting the spell in the first place. She shook her head.

"It shouldn't have had that kind of effect though, should it?" said Jigan from the other side of the room. "Her diary should have been a suitable conductor."

"I used three gemstones," she replied, feeling her voice quieten again. "They shattered, but they didn't work."

"Ruriko, what were you thinking?" said Orius, a fatherly sternness creeping into his voice.

She lowered her head, feeling almost as though she were unworthy of him. He rarely shouted at her; it was never normally necessary, as he was completely adept at putting her in her place with minimal force. It was times like that she felt too low for tears.

"I wanted to know… to… help…"

None of the others made a movement or sound. Everything around her felt grey, and she sank lower.

"You could've been seriously hurt," he went on. She was thankful that her long hair covered her face. "You need to tell us these things."

"I'm sorry," she spluttered. _Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry…_ "I really didn't mean to worry you. I really didn't, I'm just so, so sorry…"

Without warning, she was pulled into a hug from Orius. She was surprised, but nestled into him, still mumbling the word "sorry."

"We know," he said, the bite still in his tone, but his hug was tight and affectionate. "Don't do anything like this again. We're glad you're alright."

"Understatement," interjected Fieri instantly.

There was a ripple of agreement, and, almost simultaneously, smiles adorned the faces of her companions, and Ruriko felt a slight warmth; it made her feel a lot better. She smiled.

"Midnight," said Draco. "Time for bed, people." Ruriko felt her eyes widen and disorientation settle into her system. _I was out that long? _

"Ruriko, are you _sure_ you're OK?" asked Jigan.

"Yes." She still wasn't sure, but she didn't want to cause any more trouble.

"Fair enough, but I'm staying with you tonight," decided Draco. "I'll feel a lot better if I'm with you."

Ruriko, unable to challenge that, just nodded. The Masters bade the sisters goodnight, and filed out. Akiro cast one last concerned look at Ruriko, and followed them.

It was surprisingly easy to fall asleep. Fatigue still thumping through her head, and the warmth of Draco next to her, the vague blackness of slumber swept over her almost instantly.

Without warning, she sat up, her back rigidly straight, gasping. She thought back and tried to remember why she had awoken so suddenly. Quickly, her dreams re-imprinted themselves into her vision. First, there had been the usual dream where she had been falling, falling, falling, the insecurity of being airborne, the wind roaring past her ears, the chill… At the part where she expected to land in syrup, like she normally did, she found herself in a tree. She'd landed in the branches of a pure white tree. It wasn't a blinding dazzling white, nor was it even close to verging on grey. The bark was so smooth and soft to touch. There were four stags, and they greeted each other by name, and a squirrel who spoke to a great eagle and a snake, and three girls, sisters, who tended to the tree…

But something was wrong, very wrong… But what was it? She knew the feeling perfectly well, but she just couldn't word it…

She looked over to the window, and saw the faintest tinge of pink blushing against the violet sky.

"Sis? Sis?" she whispered frantically, roughly shaking Draco's shoulder. Draco woke instantly, a little quality Ruriko envied, though she didn't know if she should or not. Draco and Oshi's alert instincts were a great asset to their abilities, but Ruriko couldn't imagine being on her guard all the time like they were. It had to be tiring…

"Yes, Ruriko?" she asked blandly. Draco could be instantly roused from sleep, but that didn't mean she appreciated being woken up in the first place.

"I saw something," said Ruriko. "It was a tree. It was… It was…" She floundered in her speech, not knowing what to say. "It was… being… _corrupted_."

A brief silence followed, but it wasn't the thoughtful silence that came with any worthwhile revelations.

"I think I saw it in whatever vision I had earlier," she quickly added.

Draco kept her eyes on Ruriko, and Draco knew full well that Ruriko hated it. When she was annoyed, Draco gained the power of the "eye of shame", the "one good thing I inherited from our mother." It was her version of a glare; Ruriko had seen grown men quail under Draco's "eye of shame", and she wished she had it.

"You woke me up at the crack of dawn to tell me that?" Draco grumbled.

"… Sorry," replied Ruriko quickly, finding her voice a little high-pitched.

"Go to sleep, Ruriko."

-X-X-

"I don't see why we all shouldn't stay here. Phreeoni's not going anywhere."

"But how do we know that?" replied Oshi curtly.

Chisel crossed his arms and frowned. Oshi didn't smirk, as he had expected. Chisel felt a small stab of guilt at his assumption; Oshi didn't try and be difficult, he just told things like they were. He was cynical, and in these cases, had a very down-to-earth attitude.

As usual, the weather in Comodo was beautiful, and there were few clouds in the sky. They sat in the shade of a café, an old favourite of Taiken's. Also, it was easier to tolerate Hawk and Oshi's customary silence when they both had a drink in front of them… for some reason.

"We'll call it speculation, assassin," he answered with a smile.

"It's weird," mused Taiken. "But I think Chisel's right."

There was a nod from Hawk, and Oshi said, "I thought so as well. I just don't want to assume too much."

"So, you all have this feeling that Phreeoni is not going to move?" asked Taiken, his voice cautiously low.

Chisel nodded instantly, and felt Hawk and Oshi do the same. It wasn't like a voice in his head telling him "Phreeoni will not move", just as a voice in his head wouldn't tell him "your name is Chisel" if anyone asked who he was. He imagined the creature coming out of Anthell, and he just… couldn't see it happening. It wasn't dread; it was certainty. And now his guild mates had confirmed that.

"That is weird," whispered Hawk.

"Yeah… We're clairvoyant buddies," said Taiken with an almost cynical frown.

There was an odd, surreal silence; Chisel tried to distract himself from it by taking a sip of his drink. The icy liquid slipping down his throat felt strange.

"So… it's agreed then," he said. "We're staying here while Kyo completes her training."

"Yes," said Taiken, briefly snapping out of his serious figure. "What about Draco and Ruriko? Should they stay up in Yuno, or go back home, or come down here?"

"They don't know about Phreeoni yet, so if they go home, we need to warn them," replied Oshi.

Taiken thought for a moment, then turned to Hawk and sighed, "Bugger it. Just tell them to heave themselves down here."

Hawk made no reaction other than following Taiken's order. Chisel regarded Taiken's position with slight curiosity. It was Ruriko who was the official leader of the God's Cry, being its founder, but Taiken was the most qualified to be labelled the guild master. Ruriko had charisma, but that alone wasn't enough for leadership; so Taiken had taken up the torch and was the one to manage the guild and make any decisions.

Hawk woke his falcon, which was asleep on his shoulder, and received a stab in the ear from a sharp beak. The bird remained still when he was tying the note to its leg, but apparently the usual nip it gave him was a lot harder than usual.

"Ow," he grumbled as the falcon took off, a hand nursing his ear.

"How I wish I had a falcon," said Taiken, with the slightest trace of a grin.

"They're downright annoying at times," was the murmured reply.

"I don't know… They look like good pets."

"If you think of them as pets, there is no way they will obey you. A hunter and falcon are partners; they help sustain each other. If you think of yourself as the master and the falcon as something that has to obey, it's not going to be happy."

"How do you… make falcons though?" asked Chisel. It was always a privilege to hear from other castes about their skills and how they work.

"Well, I guess you would call it taming," replied Hawk. "But a lot of it involves waiting for your falcon to come to you. You have to befriend it, almost like you would a person…"

"Oh, ancient gods, no, Hawk!" said Taiken in a mock-panicky voice. "Not befriending like a person, surely?"

"If it's difficult, then you've got the wrong bird. Alder was easy, because he's just like me."

"That's a scary thought…"

x-x-x

Kyo had already learnt one of the dances involving chants. She had Eva as a dancing instructor, and when she had learnt the support dances, one of the bards would teach her the "ensembles."

"They're just support dances, but they work as a bard and a dancer working together," explained Aravis. "But since you have Taiken as part of your guild, I wouldn't worry too much about your partner. You need to move perfectly in sync with the bard you're performing with, but Taiken was excellent at that when he was here."

Within the first hour, she had learnt to throw her chakrams like a boomerang and stun someone with a scream. It was an odd technique, as it required not only the usual concentration of a spell, but for the user to scream at the top of their lungs. It was a strange feeling. She was also being taught the dancer's style of fighting, which wasn't all that dissimilar from her own. The chakrams were easy to work with, she'd found, and already she was able to use them effectively. Aravis insisted that she try fighting with a whip, which she found strangely comfortable. She considered talking to Chisel about her using one, but decided to stick with chakrams for the time being.

Her instructors were astonished at her quick progress, but pleased, nonetheless. The first dance she had learnt had a low, soft chant, which was fast and smooth, and almost sounded like a hum. The steps involved graceful, slow arcs with the arms, pointed toes and precise leg movements. Some of the instructors called it "Focus Ballet", because of the style of the steps, but also because of the way it effected peoples fighting: their vision and motion became sharper, and they were able to strike their target with perfect precision. Others called it "Humming", because of its chant.

After three days of lessons, she was working on the next dance. It had no chant, but it required the same concentration, and the steps were quite complicated. She was OK at adapting and ending her dances without side effects; since they were classed as magic, and the dancers channelled the energy through movement instead of a solid matter, like a mage does with a wand, if the dance was not ended properly, there was a possibility of the dancer being injured by the energy they couldn't channel. So far she was only practising the dance without the focus of power, but she was always told to end them properly "to encourage good habits."

"The "Lady Luck" is a useful dance," said Eva, a glossy haired brunette. She had dark eyes and dark skin, and had re-taught Kyo how to sing. "It will give your fighting party strength and determination. Their attacks will be strong enough to rip through defences and dodges."

Eva would then disappear to teach her beginner class for an hour, in which Kyo would practice by herself. _I'll take a break in a minute,_ she kept telling herself, but she didn't see any point in stopping. She resolved to not take a brake until she'd got whatever she was doing right, but when she finally corrected it, she thought that she should just carry on.

But at midday, Aravis would come in and order her to go eat something, so she went and had lunch with the seniors. Tassy, of course, was something of a best friend or maybe even a sister. It seemed also that everyone liked Tassy. Her best friends, she explained, were Kura and Leo, and now Kyo, she'd added. While the seniors had two or three people who they stayed with all the time, everyone was friends with everyone. It was a very easy environment to fit into to.

Kura was soft in nature and of appearance, and a little too fond of her hair; she was constantly running her fingers through her long honey brown curls. She had smooth tanned skin, which was almost the same colour as her hair. They all spent a lot of time lazing on the beach, just talking, and Kura would always be leaning on Kyo.

Leo had literally swept her off her feet when she had first come out of practice to see them. Kyo had been speaking to Tassy when Leo decided it would be a good idea to rugby-tackle them. After much confusion and falling over, Tassy had spat out a mouth of sand and mumbled, "Leo, start running." Leo was a brash and cocky young man, with bronze eyes and a kind of contagious confidence. He was great fun to be around.

It felt wonderful to have such interesting and good friends, but again, she didn't find the same security she had with Hawk. She thought that maybe he was a certain way, and that was why she felt what she felt, and that it could apply to others. But she was wrong. It wasn't that she didn't like them. In fact, she liked them a lot, too much so, possibly. It's just that Hawk was… she didn't know.

Today, they were playing a game of rounders, a team sport, which Kyo had never played, but she had watched others and thought she had the gist of it. The seniors had invented it as a pass-time. Unfortunately, one of bards had proposed a battle of the sexes, and, unfortunately, the dancers were losing quite embarrassingly.

"The only problem," Tassy pointed out. "Is that they have a team of people who can bat, throw _and_ catch."

Kyo almost scored a rounder, but as she was about to tap the last post, where Leo was waiting for someone to throw the ball to him so he could "stump" her out before she reached it. Leo saw defeat, and, just as she was about to hit it with her bat, he picked up the post and ran off with it.

By the end, the girls made a slight comeback, but still lost miserably. Kyo couldn't care less; it'd been fun, and she wondered what she'd been missing all these years of shying away. This was the first time since sparring with Oshi that she felt human.

Kyo adored her life at Comodo, even though it wouldn't last longer than a month. But she knew it would feel much shorter. She loved the friends she'd made and learning how to be useful to the God's Cry.

Shortly after mastering the Lady Luck dance, Eva told her, "You remember one of the requirements of coming here was to be a good archer?"

She nodded.

"You'll be instructed each morning for two hours," explained Eva. "Then we'll move back to your dances. It gives me time to rest; you work too hard."

"You won't be teaching me?" asked Kyo with a flicker of a laugh.

"No. There's someone _much _more suitable."

There was a knock at the practice room door, and Hawk stepped through. Kyo wanted to jump up and shout, "_Woohoo!_" at the top of her lungs. She restrained herself, however, but she smiled, a full, happy smile. Hawk smiled back, and beckoned for her to follow him.

The school had an archery range, right at the back, past the dormitories. It was built like the dance studios: well lit, spacious, and with wooden floors, but there were no mirrors on the walls as there were in the studios. The targets were at the far side of the room.

"This should only take a few days, judging by the progress you're making with your dances," he said. He looked to the targets, and then turned back to Kyo. "You'll have to wear one of these, and one of these," he continued, handing her what appeared to be a leather band and a giant eye-patch with an extra string. "You need to put them on, being a beginner and all. The band goes around your wrist and the pad goes over your chest."

"Which wrist and which part of the chest?"

"Depends how you hold the bow. Here," he said, handing her a bow. "Courtesy of Chisel."

She was going to ask how to hold the bow properly, but he had picked up her right hand and was placing it on the bowstring. It was a peculiar touch; he was gentle, but she felt a strength behind his hands. His skin was smooth and his fingers slender, but there were many furrows from years of archery. Almost effortlessly, he arranged her fingers over the bow, keeping his eyes down as he did so, and she followed suit, occasionally letting her vision flit up to see where he was looking. He held her hands so tenderly; she felt the strange sensation of being airborne, her heart beating against her.

Only when he stood back and asked her to draw the bow back did she worry about this effect he had on her. She did as she was told, but she was inwardly panicking about this strange way she felt. She tried to not think about it, but to no avail.

"Does that feel OK?"

She nodded. He walked around and placed the wristlet over the hand that held the bow, and he put one of the cords of the pad around her arm, pulled it up to her shoulder, and put the other cord over her head and under her arm. It felt odd.

For a majority, Hawk was actually helping draw back the bow to fire, and she found handling a bow almost unbearably awkward. But she didn't dwell on the difficulty.

"I guess you like it here. I haven't seen you much these last couple of days."

"Yeah. Everyone here's so nice."

"Aravis is thrilled about the progress you're making. Apparently, it's record quality, or something. Raise your hand a bit, and hold your arm straight out. I have to admit that I was expecting everyone to be really annoying…"

She laughed. "Well, Comodo showed you what for, then. The dance I just learnt is horrible to do. It's just this one bit in the middle, it has to be really precise; it has to be exactly one and a half steps to each flick of the hips, and it's quite fast so it's almost impossible to – _ow_ – tell if you're doing it right."

" Try not to be pull the bowstring back so far yet; just back to the pad. It's always been interesting fighting alongside Taiken. It feels kind of weird when he plays one of his songs in a fight. It has to be felt to be believed."

They went on talking, Hawk occasionally making his way over and adjusting how she stood. The two hours went by quickly, and soon she was back in the practice room, with Eva teaching her the dance to undo an enemy's magical focus.

-X-X-

The barons were all hideously old-fashioned, so afraid of change. The king was in charge of Midgard, and the barons in charge of their respective towns. They were higher even than the "top" guild masters, and in the hierarchy, only slightly lower than the king, and Tristan sighed inwardly because of it. He sat in the throne, a most frustrating position. He was still Prince Tristan, barely turned eighteen; that was the only problem. His father, King Eirik, lay in his chambers, where he had been for some months, dying. The throne was as good as his, and he hated it. He wanted his father to die, for the sake of a painless end. Hester, a priestess, had examined the king, and one of his organs – the kidney or the liver, one or the other – was… deteriorating, basically, and that he was slowly being poisoned, or something to that effect. She couldn't heal him; in fact, the most humane thing to do would be to slit his throat.

Hester, in fact, was one of the high priests in charge of the priest guild and the chapel in Prontera. Her fellow guild master and brother, Canth, had taken over her duties at the church, so that she could stay with Prince Tristan, and help him through the awkward state of things.

Although he didn't want to think of it, his father was nothing but a nuisance where he was. Anything Tristan wanted to do that was to do with "his" kingdom, he had to pass over the barons. Anything they didn't like, and the words "rightful", "king" and "still alive" all cropped up and Tristan ran headlong into his main obstacle.

And there was the dispute of Morroc; the baron in charge of it had died, and it was believed he was assassinated. But that was before King Eirik had fallen ill, or at least before he showed any sign of being ill, and the place had fallen further, if possible, into shambles. Tristan wanted some of the priest guild to take over, but _No! A guild in charge of a town? Are you insane, you must a have a baron in charge of a town, it's the way we've done things for years, I'm a complete fuckwit, blah blah blah… _And so it went.

"How about this then?" replied Tristan curtly. "We put the priest guild in charge of it, _for the time being_."

He knew they wouldn't accept; the barons were convinced that Tristan wanted to eradicate them and remove them from their positions of power (_tempting_, thought Tristan, but as long as his father was alive, they had to stay.) And, of course, they would think this an attempt to remove their legitimacy. Well, there was an incredibly small chance they would accept, and Canth would be able to recruit the thieves as fighters to help with the problem in Culvert. And even if they didn't accept, it was mildly amusing to hear their excuses. Most of them were about traditions, and how they've done these things since the days of King Some-person-great the twenty-third from the year when everything went really well from the age of We Rule Everything and We Know It.

"A guild in charge of Morroc? Are you mad? The only one legitimate to supervise a town a baron, and the only one legitimate to pass a decree that says otherwise is the king."

Tristan had learnt to make no physical reaction when he heard something like that. He felt the smallest of sighs to his left, which was Hester. Her facial expression would remain cheerfully placid though.

"My lord."

Normally reports came in every three hours, delivered by a swordsman or an acolyte. This time, it was Kenji, captain of the guards, who always had whispered words of encouragement for Tristan. It was odd to see him kneel and bow like one of his underlings.

"Urgent news: some of the wizard guild wish to see you."

"Bring them in immediately," replied Tristan, knowing the barons couldn't dismiss this.

Kenji bowed again, and rushed off back the way he had come. He returned a minute later, this time with four wizards. Tristan thought wizards had a curious air about them; no matter who they were or what they looked like, they always looked cool and reserved with those cloaks they wore.

But these wizards were covered in cuts and bruises, and one of them was panting heavily, and another was bleeding profusely from a deep scarlet cut across his chest. Tristan had seen something like it; when Hester had spent been healing for so long one time, that she completely ran out of the energy to channel her spells. He'd never felt it, but he saw the way her eyes were glazed and her skin was paling, and the way she couldn't cope with the unbearable fatigue. Her head swivelled nervously around the room, paranoid. He remembered how insecure Hester had been when she was deprived of the energy to cast.

"Hester, tend to their wounds," he said over his shoulder, but he felt almost obnoxious doing so. But Hester did as requested without complaint. "The guild master?" he asked, looking over the wizards. The eldest couldn't be more than thirty, and the cardinal Master of Geffen was supposedly eighty years old.

"Pardon me, your majesty," said a female wizard with blonde hair and narrow brown eyes. Her posture and her face didn't betray any emotion, but her voice was tired and cracked with woe. "Our Lord Ivas is dead."

"Nonsense!" exploded one of the barons; Meron of Yuno.

One of the wizards, a boy no older than Tristan, raised his head, staring straight at the speaker with hard, glinting icy blue eyes. His glare carried such vehemence and emotion, as did his voice.

"Geffen has fallen," he said, emphasising every syllable with a bite of cold fury. "Undead monsters came pouring out of Geffen tower. There were too many. The Masters grouped together and held them off while the citizens and students escaped. Not many managed it. Most of the Masters were killed in the attack, as you can see. We brought the survivors here; there are few."

"We believe that it is the same way that Arie fell," said the blonde wizard. "We also come to warn you, your Majesty: they are coming for Prontera. You need to fortify your defences."

"How do you know?" asked Kihoto of Amatsu.

"They didn't mean for survivors, that's fairly obvious. But we couldn't stop and rest when we fled, what with a large _army_ marching for Prontera behind us. And they won't stop coming out of Geffen tower."

Tristan thought for a moment; what would be the best course of action? Push them back to Geffen and keep them there.

"When will they arrive?" he asked.

"We are uncertain, but less than a day, your Majesty. I'm sorry we couldn't get here sooner," replied the blonde, bowing.

"Hester, rally the priest guild," he said, his subconscious thrown into panic, but his mind telling him to keep control. "Bring every acolyte you have, and have them ready for battle. Send them to the west gate."

"Yes, your Majesty," said Hester, bowing as she hurried off.

"Kenji, find Shigeru and have him call back the crusaders ready to march for Geffen. Tell them to contain the enemy within the city."

It felt odd ordering around the people who had been his friends all these years. It felt even more so that Prontera was under attack, and he was the one who would have to make the decisions. The survival of the capital city rested on the decisions he made. _No pressure there, then._

"With all due respect, your Majesty," grumbled Meron. "But have you lost your mind?"

"What you have me do, baron?" he replied silkily.

"Recalling the crusaders from Morroc? Do you realize what could happen? The streets are crawling with petty thieves, and the assassin guild-…"

"Who have a very strict code of honour."

"And how exactly can we be sure that there even _is _an attack?"

"Pardon me, sir." The blonde wizard spoke up again, her voice hoarse and impatient. "But our home has been destroyed. The creatures have claimed it as some sort of strong hold. We can never go back there. They have fortified their position, and now they march for Prontera."

"Your proof, wizard?"

"We have been walking for two days without rest, our home is overrun with the undead, and most of the people we knew have been killed," she hissed back at him.

x-x-x

Hester waited with Shigeru, neither of them saying a word. She stood with a hand on her hip and clasping the rosary around her neck. Night had fallen, the sky inky blue and the stars bright.

She incanted the spell of vision, its bright blue flame comforting and warm. It let her see what was at the black horizon. The church had been emptied; every acolyte and priest stood outside the west gate, some of them no older than seven or eight. It was amazing; the vast wall at Prontera's west, a line, bulked and armoured, consisting entirely of people, running all the way along it. The crusaders gripped their swords and shields or spears tightly, some of them eying the acolytes with what could only be pity.

There was a slight stir of the ground beneath them. Shigeru frowned, but thought nothing of it. Hester, not stood in full armour and armed only with a book, shuddered and squinted hard against the darkness of the night and the flame of her spell, thinking of how easily she could be killed.

Slowly, staggering, lurching… the undead army waded into view over the horizon. From where she stood, it looked so huge that it could swallow the city behind her whole, and think nothing of it. The moan of death came drifting closer, and people were starting to notice. A lot of the acolytes were starting to panic, the younger ones wailing; Shigeru and the priests rushed through their numbers calming them. The crusaders remained silent, all eyes on the approaching enemy.

"When was the last time Prontera was at war?" asked Hester, not remembering having to be rallied for battle.

Shigeru chuckled. "I don't think I was even conceived. More than a century ago, it must have been. We've been at peace for so long, but just about every child is sent from an early age to learn to fight."

"God help us," she whispered.

"If all of these acolytes cast all at once, they shouldn't touch us," he replied quietly.

"It's a lot more difficult to remind yourself of that when you have no guerrilla combat skills."

Soon, figures were discernable from the reeling undead. Another sixty yards or so, and they would be upon them. Hester quickly instructed the priests to gather the energy needed for an exorcism spell. They did so, a dim white light forming around each one as they prayed.

They lumbered closer, but it seemed like forever that it took for the gap between the two armies to close. The night slugged on, the stars white, the sky black, and all else beneath them murky grey. The moon wasn't visible.

It was so tense. Hester screamed for the acolytes to start praying, and the priests unleashed their own spells. She watched, transfixed, as pure white light erupted from within the creatures, from where they would lurch and retch, as if they were sick. Then, their decaying bodies would fold in on themselves, and they would fall to the ground as silvery dust. Throughout the army, their souls rose pure and free, and their bodies fell, defeated, to return to the earth. The holy light cascaded through their ranks, decimating, cleansing and illuminating the sky until it became a glorious midday blue. The air was aflame with the groans of the defeated undead, and the beautiful sound of the acolytes' prayers, like the toll of bells and the flutter of angels, so pure and bright.

An army was reduced to a rabble, a rabble was reduced to the remains, and the remains were reduced to dust. Hester felt a triumphant smile begin to flicker into a place. It felt as though everything had slowed down, and she looked over the grounds of their victory.

"We did it," said Shigeru with a smile. "Crusaders!" he shouted. "To Geffen!"

And they left on their vigilant march, and they wouldn't cease until they reached Geffen.

_We successfully defended Prontera… We did it…_

x-x-x

The prince had prepared rooms for his visitors, and was already out securing accommodation for the refugees of Geffen. Currently, the four wizards were waiting in one of the numerous tearooms of Prontera Castle. Despite how tired each of them was, neither felt like sleeping. They wanted to hear that the defence was successful; it would've been fairly obvious if it wasn't.

The woman who had first spoken was called Elle. Her eyes were narrow and light brown, and her white blonde was straight but flicked out at the ends. She was normally quite chillingly calm, and had a dismissive and almost pessimistic attitude to her life and everyone else's. Her lips were now pursed, determined not to utter a sound, her eyes half closed, and her face emotionless. "If I don't feel anything, I can't feel pain," was what she'd always assured the others. Even after losing her friends and her home, she was determined to keep it up. She was trying to not feel. She leant sullenly against the wall, with her arms folded, looking at nothing.

Jiro sat lazily in a chair. There were tears streaming down his face, but he didn't seem to have noticed. He couldn't care less, it seemed. He was slightly cynical at times, but he teased the others and brought them together in a way. He had red hair and grey eyes, and his build was broad-shouldered and strong beneath his cloak. At the moment, he was the eldest of them, being in his late twenties, but whether he cared or if he even realized was a mystery. The priestess had healed over the wound on his chest, but he had lost a lot of blood and was exhausted.

Pridith sat cross-legged on the floor, endlessly shuffling a deck of Rodusha cards, but she wasn't even looking at them. Normally, her glossy black hair was bound up, but the bandage had been cut sometime during Geffen's destruction. But it was most definitely stupid to worry about hair during such a time, even for a nitpick like Pridith. She'd recovered and was able to cast, but her skin was still quite sallow looking. Her eyes were dark brown, and now her hair was left to fall in strands and curls around her; it easily touched the floor and fanned out across the white stone, like a raven on snow.

Arne regarded his companions, almost fearfully. He thought that maybe he should feel sad, like they were, but he didn't feel anything. He decided that he should be like how Elle normally was, and be strong for the others. The second he had set foot outside of Geffen he was thinking, _If only Ivas were here; he'd know what to do. _Jiro really should have been the one leading, but Arne was the one to make to the decision; not only that, but the others obeyed him, despite him being their inferior. He knew he had a way over others, some kind of confidence or charisma of some sort. But when things became grave, he didn't expect everyone else to turn to him.

He thought of the priestess, Hester, how she believed in God. Arne couldn't bring himself to believe in God; not now. But he wondered… was it comforting to truly believe? That someone was looking after you from… somewhere? Was that why people believed? Because they couldn't bear the thought that there shouldn't be someone looking out for them?

He thought of the people in Geffen who he had to leave behind. The students at the academy who called him "uncle", who he chided and teased and spoiled and praised. The owner of the tavern, with his slightly grubby skin, so proud of his new born son. He thought of the other Masters, and where they went now that they weren't on Midgard. He remembered reading old fairy tales where someone prays for a loved one who has passed on, and that someone was convinced that their prayer would be answered. Was it delusion? Genuine faith? Desperation? Or was it pure and honest truth? How were they so convinced that they would be heard?

_What should I do, Ivas? Where do we go?_

He waited for an answer, but air around them remained heavy and grey.

If there was something he didn't know, he went to Ivas, and Ivas told him the answer to his problem. Now, it wasn't so simple. Nothing was simple. _Does everything have to be harder than it seems?_

He didn't know how long he stood there, drowning in the silence, his mind a commotion of questions and doubts and emotions that he was afraid to show.

"You're all feeling alright?"

It was Hester, the priestess. She stood in the doorway with her hands clasped in front of her.

"Fine," grumbled Jiro, with no life or feeling in his voice.

"You've been through a lot. Our prince is working on the barons to let the refugees stay in the chapel for as long as they need."

There was silence; none of the wizards was sure how to reply, other than with a grateful nod.

"We defended Prontera successfully. We couldn't have been ready for the attack had you not arrived. You have saved many lives."

"Miss Hester?" said Arne.

"Yes?"

"When you pray to your god, does it really give you strength?" He felt he needed to ask.

"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "I suppose none of you have faith in God. It's a great comfort. My faith keeps me strong; I cannot imagine not having it. You draw your strength from yourself. I think you expect too much of yourselves; no one should have to fight on their own."

_No… they shouldn't…_

X-----X

"… I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

Ruriko, Draco and the Masters were in the retiring room. Each town had a priest from whom they received messages, since the priests could warp from one place to another with ease. It was the most efficient way of keeping the major cities informed. The priest now frowned or repeated the message to Orius.

"Geffen has fallen. All its inhabitants have either been killed or have fled."

Orius paused and looked to the priest, Canth, again. "How did it happen? Was Master Ivas among the survivors?"

"Monsters came pouring out of Geffen tower and destroyed the town. The Masters assembled to help the citizens escape, but few got out. Most of the Masters were killed. There are about twenty, mostly mages, who escaped, and they are now staying in Prontera Sanctuary. The Masters Jiro, Elle, Pridith and Arne were the only ones to survive of the wizard guild."

"Where are the Masters?"

"Prontera castle. And we have a slight problem…" sighed Canth. "The barons do not want to keep the refugees there for long."

"They what?" said Orius, his voice dangerously low. There was a cold, shuddering anger in his speech.

"They want the mages out of the church as soon as possible," explained Canth. "They don't believe that different castes should be able to relate so closely. And they want the Masters out of the castle. You know how old fashioned the barons are, and Meron's the worst," he grumbled quietly. "How do you put up with him?"

"I keep out of his way when I can," replied Orius flatly. "Flatter him. Go along with what he says. That's the best way to get him to shut up."

"Prince Tristan is working to keep at least the mages in the church…" Canth paused. "But they will not tolerate the wizards for much longer."

"Should they come here?"

" I think that would be the best option. Also, there is still the issue of Culvert."

"It's still overwhelmed then?"

"Yes. We think they are trying a thing similar to Geffen and Arie, but we can't be sure. We still have volunteers coming forward, but we could do with one the more powerful guilds stepping forward. We would be honoured if the sage guild would come forward."

Orius remained silent for a second, then replied, "I can't be rushing off to Culvert, what with Meron to keep an eye on. But I can recommend something as good as." He turned to Ruriko, who shrunk further back into her chair. "Ruriko, I believe the God' Cry can help here."

"The God's Cry? The barons aren't going to be too happy…"

"Do the barons have to know who we are?" said Draco silkily. "For all they know, we could just be some run-of-the-mill guild who are immensely desperate for recognition, or even zenny."

Canth smiled and nodded.

"So, why do you need to keep an eye on Meron?" asked Ruriko, curious.

"The barons aren't happy with Prince Tristan assuming throne now that his father is dying. They're using the fact that King Eirik is still alive to stop him from passing any decree that they don't like. But I think it goes deeper than that." Orius lowered his force, and kept his eyes staring straight ahead, not looking at anyone. "Tristan is the king's only heir, and if they get rid of him, they can manipulate the king to their liking. And once the king dies, there will be no royal family, and it would be so easy for them to assume control of Midgard."

"… Politics bites," grumbled Ruriko.

Canth smiled again, and muttered something, obviously a spell, and in wave of blue light, was gone. Draco chose to say nothing.

She could see something fluttering out of the corner of her eye. She looked over, and found a shadow flitting over the small window at the other end of the room, and recognised the wings of Hawk's falcon. She strode over and let it in, from where it soared straight over to table and perched obediently there in front of Ruriko.

Draco watched briefly as her sister's face lit up, and she seized the note around the bird's leg, so forcefully that it immediately took off and sought refuge on top of one of the bookshelves.

"Hawk sends word then?" said Orius, as Ruriko's eyes flew over the note.

"Yes. We have to go to Comodo. We'll go tomorrow, OK, Sis?"

20


	8. Friends and Allies

_Friends and Allies_

"In case you didn't notice, _baroness_, they spoke the truth."

"These wizards are cunning; you are just under their spell," spat Kihoto. Tristan sighed, not aloud though. Kihoto was the only woman among the barons, and the eldest of six sisters, all of them once dark haired, cold eyed and bronze skinned. She possessed a fiery, acidic stubbornness, and a ferocity no less vicious than the other barons. Her hair was now white with age, and she we neither ugly nor beautiful.

"It seems a little difficult to not take their word for it," replied Tristan, cold and calm. "Considering that the undead have just been banished from our doorstep, thanks to our "Geffen-mites." In just a few days, we will receive a message from our crusaders, telling us that they have secured Geffen, and no more attacks can be expected; or that they need assistance, then we will send some of the priests. Either way, Prontera is safe because of them."

Wizards followed a code of conduct, as did swordsmen, acolytes, hunters and even the supposedly bloodthirsty assassins, and every member of every caste of Midgard. A wizard's way was about doing what was needed, and with haste. This also meant saying only what was needed and everything that was needed; they spoke in riddles and of the laws of nature and the bond and balance of everything. Their words certainly were nothing to fools and everything to the wise.

Since the wizards had arrived, Tristan spent as much time as he could with the Master Arne. Tristan prided himself in knowing exactly how to deal with people, and Arne was something of a challenge. The wizard was eighteen, and already a Master. He had a cold, quiet, self-assured confidence that made anyone whom he so much as looked at humble away, defeated. He spoke with no emotion in his voice; not when grieved, not when glad, not when agitated. He smiled though, and when he did, his icy blue eyes glinted; whether maliciously or warmly, it was impossible to tell.

So far, their conversations had been exactly as Tristan had predicted them to be: cautious and filled with confident disdain. However, Tristan felt himself worthy of calling himself Arne's friend. He had told the wizard this, to which he replied, "I feel the same, your Majesty. You have been a great source of comfort these last few days."

"Send them to Yuno; what good are they here?" hissed Kihoto.

"What bad are they here?" replied Tristan with the casual uncaring he had learnt from Arne. "Do you fear them?"

"No," said the woman instantly. He picked up an uncomfortable, stiff change in her stance and smiled to himself. _Oh, you lie…_

"You should; they are people to be reckoned with."

With that, he stood up and left the baroness seething. He found Arne quickly, enjoying a snooze beneath an ash tree in the castle gardens. This part of the grounds seemed to be his particular favourite, as it seemed it wasn't all flowerbeds and neat 'n' tidy rows. It left its plants to grow in their natural places, and each rock looked as though it had been there forever. There was a pond with clear, shining water, and silver bells were strung with blue ribbons among the trees, ringing and glittering pleasantly with the winds white steps.

Tristan sat with his strange friend in the shade of the ash tree.

"Good afternoon, companion," said Arne without opening his eyes.

"You don't want to be taking naps and growing fond of flowers; you'll become old before your time."

The wizard gave a slight snigger and sat up.

"You seem young to be a Master," mused Tristan. "The others too, but you especially."

"You seem young to be caught in this vicious little game of politics," replied the other in an ironic matter-of-fact tone, which Tristan had learnt was part of Arne's humour. "There are others who seem young, like you say."

The wizard wouldn't continue unless asked to do so. He would not conceal, nor would he go further than he needed to.

"Who are they?"

"There are two who spring to mind," was the silky reply. "One has been Master not two years, and is no older than ourselves. He is the youngest of the Masters of Yuno, and his eyes are golden. He is Akiro. The other is a strange girl, not yet sixteen years of age. She is regarded as a daughter by the Cardinal Master Orius. She has boundless magical and emotional energy, and her sister is said to be a shadow. She is more than worthy of being a Master."

Tristan watched with amused curiosity as his friend's eyes glazed over as he spoke, and the usual dry iciness melted away for a second. "You've met her before," he said with iron certainty. "Tell me about her."

Arne turned slowly to face him, no trace of shame or embarrassment, only his self-assured confidence remained. "The last festival of Samhain." Samhain was a day celebrated all over Midgard, on the night of the full moon at the end of Gort, the month of Ivy, in mid-autumn. It is believed that on that night, the veil between worlds was as thin as it could possibly be; however, that was merely folklore, and few believed in the possibility of other worlds. It was a day of remembrance to the dead, and thus all citizens of Midgard were known to make some form of recognition to the day; but it was also something of a day for mages. It was a spiritual, magical day, and mages were to pay tribute to the beings who spoke the language from which they forged spells. "The Masters of Yuno came to Geffen. She was with them. She wore a long dress of black silk and a magic instructor's hat, therefore travelling as an equal. She was red-haired and green-eyed, and beautiful and sweet. She greeted the Masters of Geffen like old friends. Her name is Ruriko, and she is the most extraordinary girl I've met."

"Do you miss her?" Tristan was intensely interested in this tender, fluff-'n'-cuddles side of Arne he never thought could have existed.

"When Samhain came in the mid-autumn, I had hoped to see her again."

"Is she one of that guild? The God's Cry?"

"She founded it."

"They are spoken of with contempt around here, mainly by the barons. I know nothing of them really; their members, their abilities, or their cause."

"Well, I am not surprised, companion; their cause is investigating the change of Midgard."

_Change? _They saw what was going on with Midgard? They would know something about the attack just faced? They could only bring about good for this world… Midgard is changing, as it should or shouldn't be.

"I think I would like to meet them," said Tristan without thinking.

"And I think you will do so."

Among the tuneful glitter of tiny bells on a light summer's breeze, there came an angry, hurried swish of an eastern woman's robes. "What is it Kihoto?" said Tristan blandly as the baroness approached.

"You readied the Pronteran chivalry; are you insane?"

Of course, he had expected this. The chivalry had not been needed for many years. Tristan remained vapid. He was aware of Arne sat boyishly next to him, allowing a bright white butterfly to land on his hand and regarding the woman with serene disdain.

"Why, I believe it to be the logical cause of action, Prontera being in danger of an attack and all," replied Tristan dryly. "Should I not have done?"

"We've driven off the attack," she snapped, her voice steely.

"Do you think that was the last, baroness? That wasn't just a mindless rabble monsters; someone had to be controlling them. Come now, Kihoto, do you think the undead were sent to Prontera just to be defeated? Only with a stronghold like Geffen could they even think of marching on Prontera."

"It could only be a mindless rabble."

"In such numbers? How convenient that an army-sized mindless rabble of undead just happened to trip over our doorstep. I say."

"Are you suggesting that someone sent the undead to attack Prontera, the capital city; home of the _priest_ guild, the undead killers?"

"We weren't supposed to know about it," he replied, turning his eyes savagely on her and keeping his face and tone bland. "Nobody within Geffen was supposed to have survived. We should be dust in the ground. _We can expect more._"

"What's your excuse then, wizard? Where was your power? Where are Geffen's champions?" hissed the woman, turning on Arne. Tristan wanted to laugh; he knew only vaguely how Arne handled his opponents, and looked forward to seeing it.

"Exactly where they were needed," he replied, his eyes fixed vigilantly on Kihoto's.

"And is that why Geffen was destroyed?"

"It would appear that the power of the undead was also where it was needed."

"I would've thought that the best of Geffen would've been able to defend their own city."

"So would I. But evidently, _twelve_ wizards was not enough to stop an entire _army_, that came from within the centre of the city itself. But having the undead, and we should note here that the only effective combatants against such opponents are those of the acolyte caste, and we are sorely lacking such people, popping out of the ground beneath our feet is not easy to escape from alive. There was no way we could defend our _home_, and there are many losses to grieve for." Cold, barely-suppressed rage was beginning to snake its way into his voice.

"So now your tattered survivors leech off of Prontera."

"By order of the prince, Prontera is playing host to refugees. Would you rather we had not come, and leave the undead to overwhelm this city?"

The woman sighed and threw her white hair behind her, glaring at him.

"This is pure folly," she hissed. "You will both bring panic upon the people."

"You have no authority over Prontera. Now, I suggest you stop looking at the worry of the people and see it for what it is: people caught in a war, taking precautions. Why not return to your Amatsu, baroness? You would be able to not rally your armies there. Would it not keep the people so very calm?" he replied silkily, a note of delicate mocking cackling below the icy disdain.

Kihoto stormed away, her black silken robes flitting about her like dark clouds.

"That's twice today already," mumbled Tristan.

"The barons are quite hopelessly arrogant," mused Arne. "I thought it was just Kemmerle."

Kemmerle was the late baron of Geffen, who seemed to be more full of himself than the others. Tristan hoped he had died a painful death.

"Unfortunately, all of them are. Now you get to put with the others. Do you feel privileged?" Tristan said sarcastically.

"No."

x-x-x

Excel shifted her weight, but still found herself uncomfortable. _It's so boring,_ the voice in her head sighed yet again. She had no interest in alchemy, yet her parents still made her learn. It was, in fact, a family tradition, and it did, of course, really bite. Her parents were proud enough to say that they were able to trace back ten or twenty (or some other number divisible by ten) generations of their family, and find every man a blacksmith and every woman an alchemist, even before alchemy became a recognised profession.

Excel was twelve, and the time of her exams for becoming a qualified alchemist was drawing near. She was the oddball of her class where she stood in Prontera. Her parents had wanted to send her to Aldebaran for her training in alchemy, but it was evident that she had not a shred of enthusiasm for the proposal, so she stayed in Prontera. All she wanted to be was a blacksmith. She replicated the uniform as far as she could, cutting a pair of her brother's old jeans into shorts, and wearing only white shirts tied so that they showed her stomach. A lot of blacksmiths thought this cute.

Excel thought of her brother, Chisel, out adventuring somewhere with his guild. When he visited, he always encouraged her to work hard at her alchemy, and that she would enjoy it once she got into it. But he was a member of a powerful guild, comprised of only the best of the best, and she envied and admired him. He was an excellent blacksmith, and she couldn't picture not wanting to be like anyone else. He could make armour that was as light as a feather but could take unlimited amounts of abuse. His weapons never rusted or dulled, and could slice anything, and he could decide exactly which weapon would be suitable for a person just by looking at they way they moved.

Her mind hurtled back to the dingy underground classroom with its torch brackets and musty smell. The alchemist at the front of the chamber was droning on about the "brown gas" stuff, and its flashy-sounding technical name and all of the seemingly wonderful alchemisty things it could do, all the while scrawling on a vast greying black board. Each merchant, all dressed richly and carrying large bags of whatever it was they felt necessary to lug around everywhere, and Excel stood at their place along the rows of benches, each with a glass cylinder that simmered with dense brown mists.

"… is heavier than air. It isn't toxic, but it is impossible for humans to breath. Now, it is needed as part of formulas for endothermic nitrifying reactions, and can act as a catalyst for exothermic…"

Excel slipped out of focus again, quickly forgetting what she had just been told, frowning and pawing the ground with one foot. She wondered quickly if she should be concerned that her favourite part of the class was to add strangely coloured liquids to each other, normally ones that fizzed violently when tapped lightly or interesting goopy substances in thick glass jars that someone was considerate enough to mark with a nice big red X, then watching them blow up or dissolve whatever they came into contact with. She quickly noted that her glass cylinder was belching out that brown gas stuff in slightly disturbing amounts. She shrugged and frowned, and let it simmer on.

She remembered with a slight wince, on a day less than a month before, coming home to find her parents stood outside their house, not looking very pleased. Panicking, she blurted out, "I didn't know it was new! I needed fuel badly and I thought it was abandoned, so I…" She looked up and saw this only drew a blank stare, then quickly found that they were scowling about a poring she had brought home and was hoping to tame. Apparently, it had eaten all the food in the house, and also taken a rather large bite out of the front door. "Oh," she burbled. "Sorry."

But her parents, not easily fooled, pressed her about what had happened in the lab that day, and she was forced to recount the embarrassing tale of setting fire to a new storage unit, mistaking it for an abandoned one, in a desperate bid for fuel to summon a marine sphere that would actually explode when it was popped.

Her eyes lost their reminiscent gaze, and she looked, surprised, to her cylinder, and found that brown gas was now snaking its way across the floor, dark mists rolling and curling and spreading about each other. She raised her hand, waiting for Doctor Pious to finish whatever he was drivelling about.

Most of the students were falling into various states of alarm, making Excel frown more deeply. With a ruckus beginning behind him, Doctor Pious lifted himself from his teaching and blackboard to settle it. However, he was slightly late, as the class was now waist-deep in brown gas. His eyes widened, and he stood staring and blinking incredulously behind his large glasses.

"Yes… Excel?" he sighed, exasperated, without looking at her.

"Sir, I screwed up," was all she said, with an apologetic shrug.

There was quite a fuss; every classroom on that floor and the ones below it had to be evacuated, and senior alchemists had to be dispatched with shiny looking equipment to sort it all out. The headmaster came out of his study on the first floor, especially to tell off Excel. After a couple of years of this, she had learnt to just not listen.

_Nothing like this would ever happen if I could just be a blacksmith, like I want to be,_ she thought bitterly. She wanted so much to just be like her brother. Her parents were parents, people who looked after her; they weren't role models. Chisel was everything she wanted to be, but she wasn't allowed to be that. So what does her family get? A dangerously incompetent alchemist dressed as a blacksmith who made nothing but trouble, marine spheres that didn't explode and flora that had cavities. She had not a shred of talent for alchemy! Why couldn't her parents see that? No, they just wanted to keep up with their wonderful little family traditions. She wondered if any of her seemingly wonderful ancestors needed to carry dentists around with them everywhere to fix their floras' teeth. She couldn't be only one who was useless, right? So far, she had only managed to summon one flora that had a complete set of working teeth. Unfortunately, it had been more than happy to try and eat her arm, as if to say "you gave me these teeth, and they're working great! See? I can mangle you with them!" _Well, they did work, and they bloody hurt too._

Oops! Looks like Headmaster's wrapping up. Better start nodding… 

x-x-x

Hester thought that she should she should go out into the city, or maybe return to the church to see how her brother was managing without her. But she felt too vague for crowds and the hustle and bustle, merchants contesting for customers, the various weary travellers, the constant requests… So there, sat on the edge of a fountain in the castle grounds, she remained in silent, troubled solitude.

She felt tired, but knew she shouldn't. It wasn't a physical tiredness that ailed her; just a lack of feeling and energy, a sensation that one has no purpose, and a grey boredom and no will to cure to it. She was restless.

She didn't want the endless pleas for healing minor wounds or blessings that came with a visit to Prontera; she felt like she couldn't cast, and carried not the drive to accept the requests, but she knew she wouldn't be able to just refuse and walk away, being the soft-hearted woman that she was.

She had been there to give the order that halted the attack of the undead, and that was only the beginning. Never had she seen war, and she had limited experience of battle; only accompanying fighters and helping them to kill. _Prontera should not be standing at the moment. _She should not be sat, living, thinking her human thoughts. She thought of that single, strange moment, when the sweet relief of victory began to touch her. She still felt that same relief, though it ebbed away into the air above, leaving behind thanks that she was still alive, and that they had won. She thought only that the city was safe, not that it could've been destroyed. She thought of the attack she had seen diverted, not the attacks to come.

Her gaze fell on her hands. The hands that healed and blessed, the hands that saved and cleansed. _What is my gift?_ To help. To save. To heal. To be pure, untouched.

_To see a candles light, you must first take it into the darkness._

"How strange balance is," she whispered to the silver flow of the fountain. "Not good, not bad, neither life nor death; so perfect yet so unsatisfactory. For all my prayers and purity, there has to be darkness for them to be."

-X-X-

Ruriko had told Akiro what she had seen in her dream. He'd frowned, which made her draw back, dismayed. He almost felt himself soften within, and he was cautious and gentle with her once again. He agreed to keep her company as she rummaged through the oldest, mustiest books the school library possessed in a desperate attempt to find what she was looking for.

In the amber light cast by the lamps suspended from the high ceiling, he sat slumped in a chair in a secluded corner of the library. On a table next to him, she sat cross-legged with a pile of promising looking books on her right.

"It would be so much easier if I had a name or something," she sighed, frowning her sweet little girl's frown.

"Ah, but obviously that would be too easy."

"Well, this certainly isn't easy. Half of these books smell like sweaty shoes, and I should probably be worried about all these paper cuts I'm getting. But, if anything is easy, it's most likely not worth anything. That kinda bites when you think about it."

"You haven't found anything yet? What kind of books have you been looking in?"

"A few hundred lovely volumes that may be of interest to a gardener or an alchemist, and a book on alternate worlds."

"You think that this tree is part of another world?"

"Yes and no," she replied with a little shrug. "It's weird; most of the vision was about feeling rather than hearing or vision, or even touch. Like a sensing spell, see?"

"Kind of; but what did you feel?"

She crossed her arms and raised her gaze to the ceiling in silent thought. She tilted her head from side to side every now and then, frowning each time she did. She looked adorable doing this. He looked wistfully at the glossy red hair, the brilliant green eyes, the slender figure… But she was soon shrugging and sighing, pulling him out of his daze.

"Too hard to explain. But I'll try anyway," she said, shifting herself into the girly sitting position, swinging her legs around, her ankles level with her hips. Akiro thought this always looked rather painful, and heard Jigan refer to it as the stupid-girl-sit. "It's definitely not something from _this_ world. So it would have to be from another world, right? But it's confusing because I didn't feel that it was in another world. In fact, it doesn't feel like it's from _any_ world. But you know what's even more confusing? It's _part_ of every world. It's not in them, but it's part of them."

"I'm so glad I don't have any of these visions," he said with a teasing smile, which she returned by pinching his cheek.

"Hmmm…" Akiro thought for a moment. He thought he might have an answer to her vision. "You know what I think your tree is?"

Ruriko shook her head, and looked at him intently.

"When you meet someone you share a certain quality with, you feel a strange connection to this person. Well, I think this tree is just this. You said it was part of all the worlds… something to connect the worlds. A bridge, maybe."

"I'm not sure a bridge is the right way to describe, but it might be," she said with a nod. "Maybe it's like a tree of life or something."

"What gives you that idea?"

She shrugged. "Well, it's definitely important. A tree of life, giver of life… whatever it is, _it_ _is important._ If it's connected to Midgard and it's being corrupted, then it's pretty safe to assume that all of the change which is going on is centred there. If we could find some way to get to it, it would so much easier."

"But how? You said it wasn't on Midgard."

"No, but it's a part of Midgard. Maybe it exists as kind of an alternate Midgard, like it's right on top of us, but we can't see it, and whatever lives there can't see us. We're both in the same place, but it's like they're on a different kind of level."

"I don't follow."

"You know how a thief bug can shriek really high? Like really, really high, so that it's so high that we can't hear it and it really hurts? Well, with that, it's like all sounds are on a big scale, the lowest ones at the bottom, and the thief bug screeches at the top. Well, imagine a different kind of scale. Like a scale of life or um… sustainability or something; Midgard's at one end of the scale, and this tree could be in the same place, just at a completely different part of the scale. Fu… I know what I mean."

"Don't worry; I understand what you mean now."

"Will you try and research about that tree while I'm gone? Won't you? Please?" she asked, clasping her hands together in a sweet little plea. _She's so cute…_

He smiled in reply, the thought of saying no not even flitting across his mind. But it did jolt him that she would be going tomorrow. Not for good, he assured himself, but it would certainly feel that way. Yuno, in all its splendour and finery, was nothing but pretty scenery without Ruriko. The next month or so looked grey and vague. Maybe when she came back next time, he'd have plucked up the courage to tell her how he felt. He'd miss her, as always.

"Thanks, Akiro," she said, looking relieved. "I think I should probably get some sleep; I have a long walk tomorrow."

He nodded, and watched her walk out, stretching as she went. It still surprised him to see how slight she was. _But she did grow up on the streets basically,_ he reminded himself with a frown. He didn't know much about how her childhood was spent. He knew that Draco looked after her, stealing food to get them by, then somehow finding the zenny to enrol her as a mage in Yuno Academy. He didn't feel Draco would be happy to admit where the money came from. He had asked mockingly if she had whored herself around a bit, to which she replied, "Why not." He had laughed, and deducted that that was when she had taken up assassination as a profession.

Akiro didn't know what else to do, and so began his way back to his own room.

x-x-x

"Bleeh! Sis, what time is it?"

"Time we were leaving, Ruriko," replied Draco, not bothering to filter her amusement out of her voice.

"That isn't very helpful…"

She shook her head, smiling, surveying the steadily breathing heap of bedclothes. With a quick movement, she seized the duvet and swept it up into a bundle in her arms. Ruriko instantly retracted into a shuddering ball.

"Get up, Ruriko," laughed Draco, as the younger pulled a pillow over her head. "Enough beauty sleep now, we're off to Comodo. Maybe _Akiro_ would be better at this than me…" The assassin was answered promptly with a pillow, thrown hard and aimed well, straight into her face.

Draco laughed again, and strode out of the room, pillow and duvet tucked safely in her arms. She waited perhaps ten minutes, leaning casually against a wall, when the door was pounded open, and Ruriko stood, glum and moody, framed in the doorway.

"Let's go," she grumbled, throwing her travelling cloak about her as she swished down the corridor.

They were stood by the pillar, ready to depart, quite quickly. Draco had wanted to leave early, as they avoided the Ruriko-loving crowds that would only hinder their progress. The sun had not been up an hour yet, and the weather was looking to be dull. It was cold, and Draco saw, slightly ahead of her, Ruriko clasp her cloak tightly about her, hunched over like a crone.

If they travelled at a steady pace, they would reach Aldebaran before nightfall. _If we travel at Ruriko's pace, we'll be there in minutes,_ thought Draco, watching her sister's moody stomp.

-X-X-

Kyo stepped out into bright Comodo sunlight, squinting. She surveyed the beach in front of her, filled with clusters of people, her vision frequently flitting over the pink of a dancer's skirt or the pale cape of a bard, and quickly spotted Tassy, Kura and Leo. They sat, giggling, and as Kyo made her way over, she saw why; Kura was making some kind of attempt to tame Leo's messy red hair, the result being that it was tied into pigtails with little pink ribbons. He, of course, was pretending that he was the most beautiful person on Midgard.

"Should I ask what's going on, or will I regret it?" asked Kyo as she neared them.

Leo turned, giving his hair an exaggerated flick. "Isn't my hair so sexy? Tell me, Kyo: do you like the way my fringe is incredibly floppy? Isn't it great the way it's still messy? Don't you just love this little tuft here that Kura missed? Do you find it alluring?"

She gave him a playful tap with her foot, and sat down.

"Hey, Kyo? Is it true you're only going to be here for about a month? Or even shorter?" asked Kura, quietly, as though she were afraid to say it in the first place.

"Yeah," was all she replied. Kura made a little whining noise and put her arms around Kyo's shoulders, resting her cheek against her back.

"You need to learn slower," said Tassy with a frown. "Well, at least you'll be here for one festival…"

"Which one? I didn't know there was a festival coming up."

Tassy giggled slightly, and Leo explained. "Most people only celebrate the ends of seasons and the start of a new year. Comodo celebrates the beginning of every month, on the last night of the full moon."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Why, what else that to have an excuse to throw a huge party?" he replied knowingly, as though it were obvious. "This is the town of enjoyment, after all."

"It'll be the start of Coll next week; where has the summer gone?" sighed Tassy.

"Don't worry; I'm here for you," said Leo, pretending to sob.

"If you like, I could ask the moon to wax a little slower; would that make you feel a bit better?" remarked Kura sarcastically.

"Be careful; she tends to get pretty violent when she's been drinking."

"Anyone thought of who they're going with?"

"Everyone," said Leo instantly.

"I think I'll probably just end up going up with Taiken," murmured Tassy. Kyo felt a little frightened; she had a good idea she knew who she wanted to ask, but she was hoping they wouldn't figure it out… It scared her. "Hey, Kyo, are you going to ask your hunter?"

_Oh, damn._

"Um…" She stared, wide-eyed, at Tassy, her gaze moving over Kura and Leo's interested faces.

"You should. You _so_ should!"

"How?" she spluttered; it was the only word she could think of.

"It's quite simple really; you walk up to him, say, "Would you like to go to the festival with me?" He says, "Yes," and you both live happily ever after."

She frowned; when she pictured herself in that situation, the task seemed anything but simple. _Why though? It shouldn't be hard, should it? Ah… why am I so nervous?_

At the moment, she found it amazing that she could have the casual, friendly conversations she normally had with Hawk, especially now that she'd developed what appeared to be a schoolgirl crush on the usually silent hunter. Normally, they could talk about anything, and now the prospect that she should ask him to accompany her to a beginning of month festival seemed ridiculous.

"Ah, to be young and in love," sighed Leo, in a mock-nostalgic voice. "It's great fun!"

"I'm not in love," protested Kyo, feeling her temper begin to flare up, for some reason. "I just-…"

She stopped.

"Yes?"

"I just… have… an incredibly small crush on him, that's all," she replied, her voice growing quieter as she went along. She quickly flitted back to protesting. "Well, he's my friend. I mean, he's my best friend. And I guess he does make me smile and I like being around him, but isn't that entirely what a friend is? And I can talk to him about stuff, like a friend, and he can talk to me about stuff, _like a friend._ It isn't going to be anything more than that. I did mention it was a _small_ crush, right?" she mumbled, noticing their frowns.

"Well, then, if you're friends, just ask him as a friend," said Leo brightly.

"Trust me, Kyo; he isn't going to say no."

"He… doesn't really like crowds."

"Ask him tomorrow in your archery lesson," said Tassy as though she didn't hear Kyo's last remonstrance.

x-x-x

Night was falling, and Taiken ambled slightly absent-mindedly along the empty beach. Everyone else would be in the casino at this time. He sat down, something of a smile over his features.

He was slightly confused. He was still puzzling over his certainty that "Phreeoni" wouldn't move, and also his guild mates'. He knew it wasn't such a big deal, and he tried to brush it off. There were plenty of tales of close friends (he gave a slight chuckle, thinking what Oshi or Hawk's reaction would be if he told him that he thought of either of them as that) having a weird telepathic psychic connection; he didn't know how to word it, but he knew what it was. He'd watched Tassy and Kura complete each other's sentences, or one complain, "I was going to say that!" when the other said something, and he'd found he sometimes managed the same thing with Ruriko, Chisel or Draco – the three guild members who actually seemed willing to let him get to know them.

_But what about Phreeoni? _Gut instinct, he said to himself. And… his gut instinct just happened to match that of three other people? It couldn't be anything… big, could it? _This just doesn't make any sense._

"Never thought I'd find you here by yourself."

Taiken yelled out, the voice of what was darkness stopping his heart. He spun around, and was surprised to find Oshi stood there, frowning, barely visible in the night's blackness. Taiken sighed.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that! It's-…"

"Annoying. I know. Chisel was kind enough to inform me. I'd like to try the same thing on Hawk, but that little hunter instinct of his can be a slight hindrance. I've made him jump, but never scream." Here, he gave Taiken a slight leer.

Taiken ignored it, and stood up, thinking he would feel slightly better if he was above Oshi in height. He was only a couple of inches taller, and now, stood straight, he had the strange feeling of looking down at a horribly defiant child, who had obviously done something bad. But, in this case, the child was five foot five, and seemed to be plotting his demise.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"Why were you surprised to see me here then?"

"I said I was surprised to see you here _by yourself._"

"… What did you need?"

"Information. There was a girl earlier – I don't remember her name for the life of me – she kept talking about a festival, and was dropping very heavy hints. Do they have parties _this_ month?"

"This is Comodo, Oshi. They have parties every month."

"Comodo is a strange place."

"And by strange, I believe you mean sociable."

"No, I mean strange."

Taiken shook his head and shrugged. "She wanted you to go with her to the festival to celebrate the beginning of Coll."

"Indeed."

"And undoubtedly, she also wanted very much to get in your pants."

"Ha ha. Any way I can avoid it?"

"Everybody goes, normally with a partner. You could just go with your friends, if you would be so brave as to call us that."

"Fine, fine." He looked for a moment as though he were considering leaving, but, looking Taiken forcefully in the eye, turned back and asked, "Why are you here by yourself?"

"Just… thinking," he replied, somewhat lamely, taken slightly by surprise.

"Not worried about anything, are you?" prodded the assassin blandly, which was his way of showing concern.

"Nope. Nothing at all."

Oshi nodded, his expression unreadable. "Let me guess; you'll be getting yourself a date for this festival?"

"Tassy'll probably want me to go with her, but I wouldn't really call that a date," replied Taiken, a little relieved at the change of subject, and a little surprised to be talking about this with Oshi, of all people. "I can't even imagine going on a date with Tassy. If only Draco were here; you two could go together and look menacing."

Oshi gave a slight "tch!" of laughter, and kept his eyes on Taiken; it was difficult to tell if he was blinking or not. "I can't imagine a date with Draco."

"You know what, I really don't have a clue about you."

"I've had you sussed out for most of the time I've known you."

"Clever boy." Oshi smirked, then walked next to Taiken and sat down, staring at the few stars alight in the darkened sky.

"Would you feel better if you knew?"

"Honestly, Oshi, as your guild mate, I feel almost obligated to know," the bard answered, keeping his voice level. He was frowning, wondering if this could possibly be the moment where Oshi told him everything; the one time he heard about his life.

But here? In this unlikely place? He'd never expected this moment to come, and he had no idea what to expect to hear, where they would be, what he'd do afterwards… _nothing_.

"I was born in Payon," Oshi began evenly. Taiken sat next to him, keeping his eyes on the horizon over the blackened sea. "I guess I cared for my parents; my father trained me from a young age how to fight. He taught me to endure pain. He taught me to keep my face straight and my mouth shut. He taught me to be ruthless and how to make someone submit."

"Sounds rough."

"It wasn't though. For all his vicious teachings and cruel methods, he was a loving father. He would put my hands in a fire, and if I screamed, he would do it again when the skin was healed, and he'd keep doing it until I didn't scream. There's something you want to say, no?"

"Your dad was a nutcase," Taiken said instantly. Oshi laughed, and carried on.

"Maybe. But when the day came that I didn't scream, he smiled, and told me, "Good." And from my father, that was some extravagant praise. And that was one of the perks of my childhood: hearing my father tell me I'd done well. And before you say anything else, he was a good father; he raised me well. And my mother was wonderful and caring."

"You've had a fairly weird life…"

"Indeed. One day, when I was about ten, my father led me deep into the mountains. He told me to go to sleep, and when I woke, to find my way home. I didn't think to disobey him. I spent at least a week retracing my steps, and eventually I came home. But… they had…" He took a deep breath. "They weren't there."

"They abandoned you?"

"I don't know. Nobody knew; I asked around. They'd just vanished into thin air, apparently. I just don't know."

Taiken felt a little overwhelmed; he'd learnt very little of Oshi since he first met him, and now he'd learnt more than anyone knew within the space of a few minutes. _He was born in Payon? I never would've guessed… he certainly doesn't look like it. Burning hands? Was he delusional? Did he really respect his father?_

_And… his parents… They didn't abandon him… they couldn't have… they just couldn't have…_

The assassin's breathing was audible, something Taiken realised he'd never heard. He turned in surprise to his companion; he was crying. Oshi was crying.

Taiken took a moment to recover; he never thought he'd see Oshi do something so… human. He'd heard his story, he'd seen him cry… This was a strange night. Was it all even real? Would he wake up any second now? It didn't appear to be a dream, nor did it appear to be real.

"You've never told anyone this before, have you?" It was more like a statement than a question. Taiken whispered it with unflinching certainty.

Oshi shook his head, blinking, eyes wide in astonishment at the tears creeping down his face.

"You never told any of us." Taiken was careful with his tone. He didn't want to sound accusatory at all, but he didn't want his companion to think he had just brushed it off. "Do you really not trust your friends that much?"

"I just couldn't," replied the assassin, voice muffled with silent, suppressed sobs.

Taiken was beginning to feel slightly faint. "You really thought that?" He didn't look to the other for a reply, but sighed, bewildered at his own watering eyes. "There are some things you'll want to keep to yourself, and there are some things that you need to let out. I couldn't walk around with your burden by myself. I'd crack instantly. I'd have told someone long ago. Where did you go afterwards?"

"That was when I took up assassination. It would be against my honour to tell you about it."

"I understand. But did you think it against your honour to tell me about the other half of your life?"

There was a pause.

"Maybe."

"Look, Oshi…" It felt strange saying his name now. "The God's Cry are your friends. We're here for you. We look out for each other; that's what friends are for. We wouldn't shun you for telling us about your past. We'd help. In whatever way we could. You'll tell the others someday, won't you?"

"I was hoping you'd do that for me."

"I couldn't do that. I don't think I'd feel… comfortable telling the story of _your_ life. It's something _you_ have to do. You're one of the bravest people I know… and you're brave enough to tell your friends about you. What do you think they'll say when you do? Is it really so bad?"

"I… don't know."

"Don't worry about it. You don't need to worry about it at all."

Oshi grinned slightly, and dried his eyes quickly with gloved hands. "If only Father could see his son now, weeping, admitting defeat... so much for enduring pain…"

"Nothing can teach you to endure that kind of pain."

"I guess," the assassin sighed back, gradually slipping back to his old, composed self.

"You really don't know what happened?" asked Taiken incredulously. It still seemed too cruel to him.

"I really don't care," Oshi replied dryly, a bite of irritation in his voice. "I'm going to bed now," he carried on, more calmly. "Good night."

"Good night then." Taiken was still a little dazed, staring after his impossible friend, now shrouded in shadow.

"Taiken? Thanks for listening. I feel a bit better."

Taiken nodded and waved as casually as he could possibly manage, then turned back to the sea. The stars were all ablaze, white-silver against the black sky. The ocean lapped peacefully onto the soft shore, and the air was still. And when he looked around next, his companion had vanished.

-X-X-

"Did you find anything in the library?"

Draco felt she needed to ask, almost as an apology for being moody when Ruriko had told her in the first place. They sat in front of a fire beneath a clear night sky, travelling cloaks wrapped around them.

"Absolutely nothing. I still don't know what it is."

"Is it important to find out."

"Definitely."

"Did you stumble along any theories at all?"

"A few, but I can't be sure that any of them are right."

Draco nodded, but didn't push the subject. She didn't mind the silence. In fact, she enjoyed the time to collect her thoughts. Now, she watched the fire, lively and crackling, warming her. The heat pounded into her face, making her cheeks glow slightly.

Watching Akiro and Ruriko grow closer, she was being reminded horribly of her own experience of love, and she was afraid. She was also a little jealous; she wanted to love, to have a second chance. But there'd never be anyone like him.

"Don't worry," he'd assured her. "I'll protect you. You'll never have to fear again…"

She sighed wistfully, a great weight burrowing into her heart. She thought of the protection he had offered, and where she would be if he'd stayed. But she didn't know. She'd turned from a safe, normal life long ago.

"Reading the stars is dead boring now," whined Ruriko, from somewhere seemingly faraway.

"You used to love looking at the stars."

"That was when I didn't know anything about them," replied the sage, sitting up, and Draco realised she'd been laid down. "I could just make up any old story behind them, like, "That one's the great poring, and there's a cloud which looks like a little novice fighter about to kill it." But now, it's always that one's the Nidhogg, those ones are Verdandi, Urd and Skuld, that one's a volva, that one's Hoddmimir… It's stupid; we need to come up with new names for the stars. No one even knows what any of those things are anymore. I think it's better to see the world as it is; no fancy names for anything, just Midgard. A world. With lots of stuff. I don't know how to explain it."

"Well, do you really need to?"

"I guess not… night night, Sis."

20


	9. The Issue of Culvert

_The Issue of Culvert_

Kyo looked around her, and realized with a jolt of sickness that she was stood in a ferociously burning village, the air red and intensely hot, and the smell of blood rich and disgusting. She looked over and saw a great tower, black and shadowy, looming above the burning village. She saw quickly that it was the clock tower, and now she stood in Arie.

"What am I doing here?" she screamed, her voice snapping the crackle of fire on the air like a blade. "Arie was destroyed! I can't be here! Hawk! Get me out of here! Where are you?"

_This is a dream._

"Yes… it's a dream. It has to be…"

She turned, and found her old home. She reached out tentatively, _just to make sure,_ she assured herself, and placed her hand hesitantly on the warm doorway. It felt solid. It felt real.

There was a crackle of splintering wood above, and her eyes shot upward. She leapt back, a shriek escaping her, and the thatched roof caved in, timbers crashing and breaking into twigs. The flames roared brighter, and sparks whistled menacingly around her. She yelled out again, her face stung and burnt by the flying embers.

"It's… a dream," she spluttered, though she didn't believe the words herself. The paths beneath her shoes, the heat on her face, the breeze of the night… it was real. "Has to be a dream… has to go away…"

She heard someone call her name, from far away, but she couldn't tell where they were.

"Hawk? Where are you? Help me!"

Only the sound of the blaze remained; the voice disappeared. She gasped.

"Wait! Come back! Hawk? Please come back…"

From behind her, she heard a growl, so low and menacing. She turned, knowing what she would find, slower than expected. The clock creature stood there again, it's face distorted into what could only be a glare. No human could ever replicate that face. With a snap that sounded oddly like wood, it raised its jagged arms, revealing clawed, horribly disproportioned fingers.

"You're not real," she whispered fiercely, but her own words didn't penetrate her. It was real. "This has to be a dream… please…"

It began to lurch towards her, a low hiss in its throat rumbling a sadistic purr. She wheeled around and threw herself into a sprint. She remembered the way out, quite disturbingly well, and she hurtled through the shattered streets, a cold ripping through her. She spun around the corner and pounded on. _It can't be real… Help…_

But she felt jagged hands seize her roughly, claws raking painfully into her skin. She screamed and instinctively kicked behind her. The grip loosened slightly, enough to slip free. She grabbed her arm, which was searing with pain.

But she wasn't bleeding. She stopped, stunned, and looked. She pulled her hand away unwillingly; there was the wound. It was deep. It hurt a lot. It should have been bleeding uncontrollably, but there wasn't even a trace of red over the flesh. It was still pale. No trace of blood at all. None.

"What-…?" Something tore mercilessly through her back, and she shouted in both surprise and agony, wheeling around. It burnt and it stung… _but why doesn't it bleed?_ Madly, the clock creature lunged again, it's gnarled fingers piercing her skin, one hand below her collarbone and the other below her ribs. She shrieked louder than she thought possible; it was unbearable! She stared mortified and transfixed; in a single, snapping movement, it swiped its hands through her torso, leaving gaping, searing gashes.

She tried screaming, but her voice disintegrated into a dying moan; there was nothing else she could do. The sound toppled from her mouth and no one listened or came to help; her body screamed, leaving no room for thought or logic. The world sank into silence, drowning out the angry crackle of flames and the ruthless growl of the clock creature, something unbearable pounding in her ears. There wasn't even a drop of blood. It hurt so much though… Her eyes frantically probed the wounds, and found nothing… There was something wooden beneath her skin… not blood, not human blood…

But… _clockwork?_ Mechanics? This can't be right! Clockwork? Like a machine? _Not… human? What's going on? This can't be real…_

It was real; it could only be real. It was too painful…

"Kyo!"

She heard her own name; someone was shouting to her. She tried to listen for where they were.

"_Kyo! Wake up!_"

The shouting became frantic, and her vision began to blur and shake. Her feet buckled beneath her as the world swam into a confusing haze of fire and darkness.

Someone had a strong grip on her shoulders; she thought it was bruising. The pain in her arms and torso ebbed away, throbbing and beating. Her mind began to settle down, but was still far from calm. _What's going on?_

She felt a mattress beneath her, and opened her eyes, surprised. It was dark still. She couldn't tell which way was up, her head still swimming, and her hands grabbed the nearest thing to support her.

"Kyo?" someone spluttered as she did this. "Are you OK?"

Her eyes focused in the dim light, and she found that she was clinging like a child to Hawk's arms. She sighed softly, intensely relieved, she let her cheek rest on his chest, surprised to find bare skin. She felt the vice-like grip on her shoulders relax, and he slid his arms around her, squeezing her into an embrace.

"It's OK," he whispered. "It was just a dream…"

_So it was a dream,_ she realized, feeling a weight lift from her heart. She was fine. She was in her room, in Comodo School of Music and Dance. _It felt so real though… it hurt so much…_

Her worries were still about her… she had the urge to cut herself, just to check that she would bleed, that was she was human. Her eyes flitted to her arms, and found no trace of the vicious gaping gashes.

"Is she alright?" asked someone tentatively. She recognised the voice as Tassy's.

"What happened?" asked Kyo, her mind still caught between her dream and her reality.

"Well, you screamed in your sleep," replied Tassy quietly. "So I woke up; you were restless, and you screamed again. Then you started calling for Hawk, so I tried to wake you. But then you started thrashing like mad, and I um… freaked out and went to find Hawk, and we got back here and… well, I thought you'd gone into a fit! You scared me to death."

"What were you dreaming about?" asked Hawk. Gently.

She paused, taken aback slightly. "Being back at Arie," she replied after some thought. She didn't trust herself to explain how she found that she was a… drone or puppet or whatever she was meant to be.

x-x-x

Taiken had managed to pass unnoticed by Kyo, it seemed. He had to admit it was kind of heart warming to see Hawk's change in attitude; Taiken thought he'd never see such tenderness from the aloof hunter.

"Is that all?" asked Taiken, thinking back to the disturbing way she shook and thrashed uncontrollably, her eyes wide and blazing with fear, all in her sleep. Tassy still shuffled nervously next to him; it had made him sick to watch, and Hawk looked nothing short of out of his mind with worry.

She didn't reply. Taiken nodded. "Tassy, back to bed. Have a nice night, Hawk."

Hawk frowned at him, but didn't make any objection. Tassy obediently clambered back to bed, and Hawk set Kyo back lying down. He sat cross-legged at the foot of her bed, and closed his eyes; she curled up contentedly, and was asleep in seconds.

"Cute," he muttered with a smile as soon as he was out of the room.

x-x-x

Kyo woke, bewildered at the sunlight creeping into the room. She sat up, a little restless from the nightmare. She could remember it all too well. She was so sure that it was real…

She looked to the foot of her bed, where Hawk still sat. She marvelled quickly at him; it had to be difficult sleeping sat up. _How odd… _

"Um… Hawk… sir?" She felt she needed to add the "sir", since she was waking him up. He squinted, opening his dark eyes. "I have to kick you out for a moment while I get changed…"

"Fair enough," he replied, his voice strangely lively for someone who had just woken up. He leapt off the bed, stretching as he left the room. Now stood in the morning light, she saw he was wearing just a pair of trousers. No shirt. _Wow. He's… muscly!_ she thought, staring incredulously at the broad shoulders and well-toned skin. She smiled vaguely after him for a couple of seconds, then shook her head. _Just a crush,_ she assured herself again.

She pulled on her clothes in a slight daze, but found herself incredibly flustered with the daily battle with her hair. It appeared always to have a life of its own, but today especially. It seemed to stick up slightly before falling sleek and flattering around her face. Every time she moved, the silky stuff would swoop exuberantly after her, so she slung it quickly into the usual braid. Still, it swung like a pendulum behind her, but she let it be after hearing an impatient grunt from Tassy.

"Stop looking so irritated," she grumbled, emerging from beneath her duvet.

"My hair won't stay still."

"Well, Kyo, _it's hair._ It's not supposed to stay still. Secondly, it looks pretty when it's down. Take out that plait."

"It gets in the way if I don't wear it up…" Kyo protested, or at least began to, as Tassy leapt up, yanked the ribbon that secured it out, and shoved Kyo through the door, where she was surprised to see Hawk waiting, fully dressed. He was also somewhat surprised to see Tassy forcing Kyo out of the room.

"You can have this back at the end of the day," said Tassy with a cheeky smile, waving the ribbon in front of the other's face. "Have fun in your lessons."

"Oh… grr!" snapped Kyo, now very flustered, as the door slid shut in front of her.

"Do I want to know what this is about?" said Hawk, a tone of mild amusement in his voice.

"Hair," she sighed, gathering hers self-consciously into her hands.

"I wouldn't know," he replied, scratching his head and frowning. "Women… Hey, you're feeling better?"

Her mind still on her appearance, she hesitated before she answered. "Oh… yes," she said, a little lamely, she thought. _Oh my, I'm becoming so vain…_

When they reached the archery range, she found her head a little clearer, forcing her to focus on the archery. She slipped back into their light conversations, wondering why she was ever nervous about being around him. But each time he made his way over to adjust her position, her heart stopped, and her skin tingled at his touch.

She was feeling tense now; it felt as though her flesh was roused to alert by every slight breath of air. Her body felt unwilling to move, her fingers felt like they would snap, and breathing was starting to become less than easy.

"I think Ruriko probably goes a little nuts at Samhain," he said casually, as they got onto festivals. And she realized with a sudden feeling of inadequacy that she wanted to ask him to the beginning of Coll… thing. "I think the entire mage caste goes insane about that time of year – good, but check your aim with both eyes before you let go – but Ruriko's already… well…"

"How do you have time to check your aim with both eyes before you fire when you're in the middle of a fight?" she replied incredulously, but doing as recommended when she next notched her arrow. "You know they have a festival at the start of every month here?" _The worst thing he can say is no,_ she thought grimly. And besides, if she didn't ask, Tassy could make her life utter torture if she really wanted to.

"Yeah, Taiken said. He thinks it's great. You're not going with anyone else, are you?"

She was surprised, and so, to mask it, pretended to be very interested in her bowstring and the way she was holding it. Her thoughts and feelings were alert and focused entirely on him though.

"Well…" She took a silent breath; her spine felt so faint she thought she would collapse in on herself. _Come on! Just say it and be done!_ "I was going to ask you, but I know parties aren't really your scene, so if you don't want to go… that's fine," she mumbled in a low voice.

"I'll go… with you," he replied brightly. Her feelings returned in full, light waves of relief, and she found herself grinning like an idiot. She tried to stem the smile slightly, but it returned as soon as she tried focusing on something else.

"What do you normally do at Samhain? I can't imagine you partying all night like mages are supposed to," she said, still feeling tingly, but not wishing to leave an awkward silence behind her question.

"Well, it's a day to remember the dead, and that's what I do. I just find somewhere quiet in the mountains or somewhere and just… think. Oshi does pretty much the same thing; he goes out to the mountains – always has to be mountains – and he spends a few days there by himself. Draco stays with Ruriko, who normally goes out to party in Geffen with the greatest of the mage caste; and don't worry, Draco doesn't party like a mage. She just waits until it's over. Taiken and Chisel will go with, but they won't stay out all night."

"I don't think I've ever seen any mage during Samhain time."

"Consider yourself lucky; they really do go completely nuts."

-X-X-

"… Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Ruriko; it's Lord Braxin's orders," replied the slightly grubby captain. He seemed good-natured enough, and he looked truly sorry.

Ruriko made to protest, but Draco cut her off quickly, with a soft, "Very well. We'll need to work something out."

The sage was about to come up with some other objection, but Draco turned quickly and swept away. She turned into the nearest discreet alley she found, and Ruriko trotted after her.

"Who the Hel is this Braxin to order the captains of Alderbaran?" the younger snapped hotly.

"The Baron in charge of it. He has more authority than even the alchemist guild," Draco replied calmly, leaving her sister shaking and hunched over, her hands clenched into fists.

"But why doesn't he want us to get to Comodo?" she all but shrieked.

"I doubt it has anything to do with Comodo," replied the assassin, keeping her tone calm and hoping it would have some impact on Ruriko's anger. "I'm willing to bet we can't leave Alderbaran. I think it's about us not travelling at all."

Ruriko stood still, her eyes widening slightly. She quickly insisted that they _try_ and sail from a different port. However, as Draco predicted, they were halted at the gate.

"Sis, you can sneak us out right?"

"There wouldn't be a lot of point; people will recognise you, and they can stop us from leaving again. I wonder why they don't want us to travel though…"

"If you come with me, miss, I will explain," said a soft voice behind them. Draco wheeled around, and there stood a priestess. She had a narrow, rosy-cheeked face and soft baby-blonde hair. She clasped her hands humbly in front of her, as did most acolytes.

"Who are you?" said Ruriko incredulously, almost snobbishly. It sounded almost like a challenge.

"Pardon me, miss Ruriko," replied the priestess gently. Ruriko frowned as her name was spoken, as though only a chosen, special few were allowed to utter it. "I am Hester, High Priestess of the Pronteran church."

"Ah, and since it would appear that you already know us," said Draco, shaking Hester's hand. "Could you explain what is going on?"

"Prince Tristan sent me; he was angry when he'd heard the orders to not allow the God's Cry to travel," she told them. "Master Orius recommended your guild to help us with the issue of Culvert, as did Master Arne. But the political situation is a little complex; the general idea is that the Barons are afraid of the prince and anything in favour of change."

"Well damn," grumbled Ruriko with a quick pout. _By the forsaken gods, she's in a foul mood today…_

"Prince Tristan requests an audience with you," continued Hester, her eyes flitting nervously over the sage for less than a second. "And he's already working to let the God's Cry travel freely. Will you come with me?"

"Sure," replied Ruriko with a shrug. Hester nodded and smiled, and took out a small gemstone with a distinctive blue sheen. She muttered a few words, and threw it deftly to the ground with a sweeping motion of her arm. It shattered into glittering azure droplets, which glowed. As the silvery-blue light grew brighter, it blossomed into a perfect circle, which stirred the air above it into a wind. Visible in the circle was what looked Prontera, only upside down, as though it were reflected in water.

Ruriko went first; as she entered the area around the portal, she turned white, and was gone in a blaze of silver light. Draco followed. It was like diving into dark water. She couldn't breathe, and she fell unchecked, but stopped slowly. She tried to look around her, but something had seized her roughly by the legs, and had pulled her forcefully to a standing position. And she was stood in front of the castle in Prontera.

She looked behind to see Hester walking calmly away from the portal, which melted and fell away into the ground.

"This way," said the priestess, beckoning. The sisters followed; Ruriko was pretending to not be interested in the castle and its grounds. Draco calmly let her eyes explore the landscape. It was indeed a grand building. It wasn't the dazzling white of Yuno; it was a calming, soft white. The Prontera flag fluttered gloriously from either side of the (unnecessarily) tall oaken door. The gravel beneath their feet seemed to glitter in the sun, and there was the tranquil flow of a fountain behind them somewhere.

The inside of the castle seemed to be made of marble, with dim amber lights cast over it. All furniture and decoration was nothing short of the finest quality; silken tapestries, ash wood chairs, deep red rugs, oil pictures painted with what could only be the thick, strong dyes from Amatsu…

It wasn't long before they reached the throne room; the prince sat lazily in the throne, of course… but it astonished her to be reminded of just how young he was. Either side of him stood a knight and a wizard. The Barons were gathered dangerously, tall and menacing in their robes, around him. They turned as one to face the new arrivals, their faces wearing barely concealed reactions, some of resent, some of surprise, some of anger.

Ruriko spoke first. "Which one of you is Braxin?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.

"The God's Cry weren't supposed to leave Aldebaran," snapped a bald man, with an oily, black demeanour.

"Oh damn," mocked Draco, with her silky, dry sarcasm.

The baron turned angry eyes first on Hester, then on the prince. Draco saw Prince Tristan suppress a smirk, then fix his gaze, with interest, on her and Ruriko.

"We have the right to travel freely around this land," said the sage forcefully. "Just like the other citizens of Midgard, remember?"

"We have the right to reprimand anyone whom we consider dangerous," replied the only woman amongst the crowd.

"Oh, so now we're a threat?"

"You're war mongering trouble-makers," stated the bald one calmly. His head was shiny, and there was a thin black moustache, carefully preened into a downward curve over his red mouth.

"Wow… Sis, did you know we were that?"

"I see no reason why we cannot go to Comodo," said Draco coldly, narrowing her eyes into dark slits.

"Oh, really now? Unfortunately, that is not for you to decide," said the baron harshly.

"Wrong answer," snapped Ruriko. "Here's how it works: you tell us why we weren't allowed to leave Aldebaran, then we head over to Comodo via warp spell."

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to, girl?"

"Oh, I think my poring doll just fled in terror."

"You don't have any right to order us, nor do you have any right to be here."

"Are you suggesting that we are under arrest?" said Draco with a tone of laughter.

"Unfortunately," interjected the prince forcefully. "The knights will not heed your orders, barons; the most you can do is advise arrest. Now we have some business to discuss about Culvert, which, I believe, has absolutely nothing to do with you."

With one last angry look to everyone in the room lacking the title of "Baron," they swept out like an angry swarm. Draco frowned after them, and she could tell Ruriko was doing the same.

"Politics really bites," she grumbled, pouting. The assassin quietened her with a look, and turned to the prince.

"We cannot go to Culvert at this time," she said blandly. "We must meet with the rest of our guild, then we have some business to take care of. But after, we will immediately make our way here."

"How long will you need?" he asked.

"We need a couple of weeks in Comodo, then it's a week travelling to get back home. Then a day or two with our little crisis."

"The only problem," said the knight, in a surprisingly strong voice. "Is we don't know anything about this swarm, so we don't know how long we can hold it in the sewers, but the sooner we take care of it, the better. And people are starting to disappear down there. With the knights needed to defend the castle and all but one small unit of the crusaders in Geffen, we're becoming shorthanded."

"If the Masters of Geffen were to go down with a few priests, we could at least try and find some sort of source for the swarm," replied the wizard. "I don't know if we could destroy it, but it's the next best option."

"What kind of source would we be looking for though?"

"Well, they can't have just appeared from thin air," said Ruriko, somewhat exasperatedly. "Either they're just been… collecting there for ages, or something's letting them in through a portal of some kind."

"If it's the first suggestion, then there's nothing really to the operation other than walking in and killing everything that scuttles," stated Draco. "I thought there were only four Masters of Geffen now… isn't it a little risky going to Culvert?"

"A priest could teleport us out in no time," said the wizard nonchalantly. "And we are adept enough at looking after ourselves."

"But you're in charge of the entire wizard caste; and by going down there, you're endangering it."

He didn't reply. It seemed he had nothing more to say.

The prince picked up on it quite quickly, and said, "Hester will warp you to Comodo. I trust I will see you in a month."

-X-X-

There were only three nights left until the full moon, and pretty much everyone in Comodo was preoccupied with the festival at this point.

Taiken had been rather surprised when Aravis had approached him and asked if they could use Kyo as part of the entertainment. He blinked, a little astonished, and replied, "She's your student."

"Yes, but I would've felt rude if I just nabbed her without your consent," she replied.

"I would've been more worried about getting her consent."

"That's alright then; she seems to be looking forward to it."

"Aren't you leaving it a bit late? Three days for the students to practice whatever routine you prepared is cutting it a bit fine."

"Three whole days. No breaks. Nothing. Start at the ninth bell. Finish at the night bell."

"I'll be surprised if they're still alive after that kind of schedule," he laughed. He bade the headmistress good afternoon, and decided to find Hawk. Normally, if Taiken didn't find him around the afternoon, Hawk wouldn't eat in the daytime at all. He was normally to be found doing some kind of training.

"_Why_?" Taiken had spluttered incredulously the first time he had found the hunter practicing.

"Why not?" he grunted back. Taiken had expected that kind of answer.

"You're on holiday. Don't you know how to relax?"

"Well, I'm stood here training; what do you think?"

"Your aim's already perfect, and your falcon is as fast and accurate as it can be. If you want to train, why don't you do something about your not being able to use a sword?"

"And what do you suppose I do about that?"

"You could ask someone to help you; not too difficult, is it?"

Taiken didn't bother waiting for an answer; he knew Hawk had never really been happy with the idea of depending on other people. Some of others – mainly Ruriko, Chisel, and now Kyo, it seemed – didn't mind so much, but they had problems asking for help. It was particularly noticeable with Ruriko; during combat, she would stay back to cast. Her close-quarter combat skills were abysmal so if anything attacked her, she had flee, but she was a fast runner. But if even she were in serious trouble – cornered, injured, under attack… – she wouldn't shout for help.

Today, however, Hawk was sat lazily on top of the mountain, with only his falcon for company, gazing out to sea.

"I thought I'd try that "relaxing" thing," he said without turning around.

"Have you decided what you're going to do for the festival?" Taiken asked.

"Yeah. I'm going with Kyo," replied Hawk quietly.

Taiken blinked, and grinned. Of course, Hawk would deny that it was a date with the "we're just friends" crap. But Taiken couldn't help but a feel a little disappointed; he'd been looking forward to this opportunity to annoy the hunter immensely.

He was about to consider stretching his companion's nerves a bit, but then something completely unexpected happened. Behind them, there was the distinct crackle of magic on the air, and there was gust of wind and a blinding flash of light. As it dimmed a bit, two forms came into view. Their silhouettes shook off the blue blur that came with the spell, and the bard quickly recognised them Draco and Ruriko.

"Why, hello there," he said in a mock-surprised voice. "Travelling by warp portal? You lazy gits."

"We weren't allowed to leave Aldebaran," grumbled Ruriko. The spell had completely vanished now. She looked a lot smaller now that the blue-white light had gone. "And the prince wants us to go to Culvert; we told him OK, but after Kyo's done learning her dances and we've taken care of the… thing."

He nodded sagely, then replied, "You've shrunk, Ruriko."

Draco chuckled softly while Ruriko looked worriedly at how tall she was in comparison to everyone else. Taiken wanted to laugh; Ruriko was only five foot tall, and pretended not to worry about it.

"And we have a festival in this full moon."

Draco looked up, her expression vapid. "Oh yes. Any excuse for a wild party."

x-x-x

Kyo and Tassy sat in the shade of the caves with the usual minimal refreshments, waiting for Kura and Leo to come back with the handouts about the schedule for tomorrow. Kyo wasn't too worried, but Tassy was a little agitated.

"This isn't about me screaming in my sleep, is it? It was just a nightmare," Kyo had asked, almost through gritted teeth. Thankfully, her roommate had been considerate enough to not tell even Kura and Leo.

"That scared me a bit," replied Tassy offhandedly. "It's just we normally have a week to practice for the festivals. I wonder why Mum's leaving it so late?"

"It shouldn't be too bad?"

"I'm telling you, they are going to work us so hard. We won't have any working limbs by the full moon."

"Well, you've got that right," sighed Kura's soft voice from above them. She handed them copies of the schedule and looked at her own, grimacing.

There was a pause as the other two girls looked at theirs. Kyo thought it looked tough, and she turned to Tassy to see her reaction; her eyes widened as her eyes flitted over the paper, and she gave a groan. "That's thirteen hours of work with an hour break! How the hell do they expect to do anything?" she spluttered.

"They're going to make me do part of the dancing," sighed Leo.

"_We're_ dancers; we have to do it everyday."

"I just don't do moving."

"Well, the main d-… Oh…" mumbled Kura.

Tassy jerked around to face her. "Oh? What's oh? Is that oh as in that's very interesting or oh as in we're screwed?"

"Well, just… you know… oh… You two are the centrepiece of the first performance."

"Oh. Gutted," said Leo with a frown. "They're going to work you two so hard."

"I'm going to die," murmured Tassy. "Kyo will be OK, won't you, Miss Workaholic?"

"Your mum wouldn't have chosen you if you couldn't do it."

"No, it's just her way making sure people don't know she likes me best."

-X-X-

"I still think it would be better if Pridith and Jiro came with us," said Arne blandly.

"It's just as the assassin said: you're in charge of an entire caste, essentially," said Hester gently.

They stood in front of the entrance of Culvert. The meadows were bright and basked in sunlight. There was still dew on the grass, which glittered like glass droplets. There was a small brick outpost that held the entrance to the sewers and provided shelter to the Culvert guardians. They entered here now, and stood before them was a pit with a ladder; the bottom wasn't visible.

Now that Hester mentioned the assassin… Arne had honestly been more interested in her sister. _She's cute when she's annoyed,_ he thought, chuckling to himself. He thought wistfully of the little sage. _I'll see her in a month,_ he assured himself, and the thought warmed him slightly.

Tristan had been reluctant to let Arne go, but the prince was eventually persuaded. He had agreed to send Hester with him, but insisted that Kenji, one of the lord knights in charge of the Pronteran chivalry, go with them. Elle had overheard, and told them that she needed something to take her mind off things.

"So we're all ready to go then?" said Kenji, gripping the long sword at his side with casual hands. Hester clutched her bible, Arne picked up his wizard's staff with both hands and checked that the Rodusha cards were in his pocket, and felt Elle do the same, and swish her beads dangerously. They glowed lightly, and she then wrapped over her hand.

Some of the mage and acolyte caste believed they could cast better if they chose a weapon they thought more individual and suited to them, just as a swordsman will fight better with his own sword than with any other's. Arne had heard of some who fought with the strangest items: dolls, cards, lanterns, feather quills, even a strange mage he himself had taught who channelled her spells through a little silver moon hairclip, which fitted over her hand like a gauntlet. Elle had been quite close to her father as a child, before she had been enrolled at Geffen academy and he had been become one of the Champions of Gonryun, and had to remain in the temple. He had given her a string of amber beads for her fifth birthday, and they were her weapon of choice now.

The Culvert guardians – a priest and four knights – took a quick look at the papers which said they were registered members of the Culvert volunteer force, and bade them good luck, and Kenji lowered himself down the ladder into the sewers. Arne went next. There was cold, dank smell rushing into his lungs. He climbed down the ladder as quickly as he could, but when he reached the bottom, Kenji was sat lazily on the floor as though he'd been waiting for ages. Apparently, he'd slid down the ladder. Elle and Hester came down one after another.

There was a dull flow water all around them, and the air was damp and musty. There was a drip coming from somewhere that didn't matter, and the constant flicker of torches was somewhat discomforting.

"Looks like exactly what I expected it to be," said Kenji as he stood up. "Filled with thief bugs and a bunch of kids."

Arne frowned, but the knight was most certainly right. Not a long distance away was the pounding of combat and the screech of the thief bugs. Just about all of the people had barely begun their training for their first class job. It was weird to watch; most of them were just entering adolescence, or were even younger. There was an especially efficient looking archer, who was sniping the bugs rapidly; she had little black pigtails and pale skin, and the looks of a Payonese girl. She couldn't be any older than six. There were swordsmen, acolytes, a few mages, pale archers, richly dressed merchants, even youngsters discernable from the rabble who, judging by their tans, ragged clothes and their wild-looking, easy and evidently self-taught fighting styles, could only be some of the thieves that prowled the streets of Morroc, seeking a chance in volunteer work.

Arne's eyes flittered over the crowds across the wide walkway. The thieves stuck together, the mages and the archers worked alone, the acolytes hung around with anyone, and the merchants stayed with the swordsmen. They all seemed to be fairing fine against the thief bugs, but the creatures just kept coming from somewhere to assist their companions.

"We should go deeper," said Elle, pawing the string of amber beads.

They set off, drawing stares as they went. The acolytes would bow to Hester as she passed, as she no doubt tutored just about all of them when she had the time.

"They're here under orders," she explained to her three companions. "I convinced Canth to send a few of them combat training down here. Some of them were far too happy about it. I'm not surprised. When you first enter the church, it's so difficult."

It was tedious getting to the ladder that led them deeper into the sewers. The ladder itself wasn't so far away, but there was an odd formation of bridges to be navigated, which came to about a quarter of a mile walking.

Arne went first down first when they got there; he wanted to see if Kenji really did slide down ladders. The wizard stepped down, feeling a bite of cold as he stood in lightly running water. He stood in what looked like a tunnel with a murky stream gliding through it. There was a splash behind him and a small yelp of surprise.

Arne turned to see Hester gingerly checking her feet, and she was followed by Elle. Kenji plummeted after them (sliding, of course), ignoring the splash of his boots as he landed.

Elle had walked a little ahead, and yelled out as she something flew at her. She threw hand defensively in front of her face, and shouted the chant for a quick lightning bolt. There was a flash, and the spell sprung into existence, then shot like a javelin to its target. After the static of the lightning ebbed away, they saw the attacker had only been a small bat, no bigger than a man's skull, a dull grey in hue.

"Ooh, watch out, Elle; after perhaps about an hour of scratching you, the big scary familiar might actually do you some harm," said Arne teasingly.

"I was startled," she replied curtly, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"I don't think those bats should be called familiars," sighed Kenji.

"What would you call them then?"

"Annoying."

They pressed on, but Arne lit his staff with a spell of sight, and Elle did the same with her beads. They had a pleasant red glow. They quickly came across more thief bugs, but these ones were about twice the size of the ones on the level above, about six inches long, and they had a distinct greenish hue. They shrieked as soon as they saw the intruders, and attacked, their useless wings fanned out. But they didn't pose any more than their smaller relatives, it seemed; Kenji leapt forward and sliced one in half with evident ease, and the wizards dispatched the others with a simple spirit spell.

The new bugs attacked in groups of three or more, and killing them was easy enough. Hester was able to stride up to one and smash it with her bible. They reached another ladder that took them down.

"I don't think anybody really goes that deep," the priestess said with a frown. "In fact, nobody has probably gone this deep; or else we would have heard something about those… _evolved_ thief bugs."

"Evolved? I guess that's a good way of describing them. But what are they?" mused Elle.

"I don't know. But – well, _we_ could take them out, no problem – but what about the fighters above?"

"Let's just go deeper; we might find the source," said Kenji, quite fiercely. He leapt down the ladder and was gone. The others followed. They were now stood in…

"Well, this doesn't look like a sewer now at all, does it," said Hester, her voice calm, but her eyes surprised and confused.

Arne would've thought she was being sarcastic, the way she said it, but he agreed with her. The water down here was clear and was still like a moat, and there were lanterns above their head. The floor was made of sand – damp sand, but sand all the same.

Elle held her beads in front of her, and took off on a sensing spell. Arne gripped his staff and slipped into the semi-awareness of the same spell. His focus hovered easily over the terrain, feeling the thick dank atmosphere rush past him, damp and cold. There were more thief bugs, but from what he could tell, there was no way to go deeper.

He fell back to his body, and told the others what he'd found, and Elle related the same information.

"We don't need to go deeper," whispered Hester, a little shaken. "I think I've found it."

"What was it?"

"A creature. I tried to not dwell on it too long."

"Lead the way, Hester," said Kenji, gesturing with his hand. The priestess nodded, and, clutching her bible slightly nervously, set off other one of the bridges, which swayed precariously beneath them, evidently not built for humans. They encountered a sparse few creatures. They came to a walkway that was quite narrow, and edged along the wall across it. They crossed another bridge, and then they came across what they were looking for.

Arne frowned and blinked incredulously. It was a… giant golden thief bug? It had to be about half his height, and a gleaming gold in colour. It fidgeted non-stop with its front legs, which had spines running along them, and made a sickening grating noise as they ran along each other. The protective shell over its back looked solid and smooth, as though nothing could penetrate it. It had fanged pincers that dripped with some kind of clear, glutinous liquid, and clicked menacingly.

As soon as it saw them, it shrieked with such a piercing, unbearable scream, and lunged madly at them, spreading its wings. Kenji ran forward to meet, and raised his sword. He brought the blade crashing into its hide, making a small dent. It leapt at him, screaming, but he knocked it back with a powerful bash. The second it landed, it yelled again, and the knight ran at it again. He yelled the incantation for a swordsman's spell. He closed the gap between he and his foe, and struck at it rapidly, making small marks over its back.

But something was wrong; in a hollow, rasping voice, it was…

"It's casting-…!" yelled Elle, but it had been too quick; a pillar of fire leapt up beneath Kenji. He yelled out in pain and leapt back, staring incredulously at the wall of fire between him and the golden bug. He quickly patted out a flame on his glove, and was nursing a burn on his ear. The bug leapt forward again, and fastened its pincers around the knight's middle. He screamed again and its grip tightened. Arne and Elle were casting lightning and ice bolt spells, but they were having little or no effect. Hester had begun to pray.

"_De profundo lacu, libera me de ore leonis, ne cadam in obscurum, ne absorbeat me Tartarus. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison_."

Hester was now hurriedly muttering endless blessings upon her companions, and she quickly healed Kenji's burns. Arne cast the storm gust spell, the ice and blistering wind ripping through the atmosphere. When the spell crackled out of existence, there was still a splinter of ice lodged into the hide of the creature. It turned immediately and went for him; Elle shouted the chant of a lightning spell, which struck its target with a crackle, and Kenji chased after it.

The golden bug shrieked, and some of the green bugs responded. At least twenty of them rushed to assist the golden one. Kenji kept attacking it, with Hester stemming his injuries, and the wizards quickly set about dispatching the smaller ones. Arne summoned up the spell of the fire bolt into his staff, deftly stabbed one bug with the weapon, then cast the spell over a group of the creatures that were about to attack Hester. The mob hadn't been difficult to handle, but Kenji wasn't making any damage to the golden bug.

Hester was casting too much; Arne was starting to worry about her. "Kenji, if Hester runs out of the energy to cast," he yelled warningly. "Then she won't be able to heal us or cast the warp portal to get us out of her!"

Kenji nodded, and kept attacking. The wizards joined him now, casting destructive spells non-stop. Without warning, the bug suddenly went for Arne. He raised his hand instinctively, but it sank its pincers through his hand. He screamed in absolute agony, seeing the pincers go right through. The staff fell from his grip, and he felt his balance failing. With a dull thud, he fell backwards, and the air left his lungs. The bug was surprisingly heavy, pinning him, its pincers reaching out for his face. He threw out his uninjured hand in an attempt to hold it back. But it was quite a lot stronger than he was; his entire arm shook in its socket from the effect. He heard Elle scream a chant for a spell, and a very large (overdone, possibly) fireball soared through the air. It knocked the golden bug back, but it lodged its pincers into his stomach for ground. He thought his head would explode in pain, and he screamed as loud as he could, but it didn't ease the agony.

Kenji sprinted forward, and kicked viciously at it to get it away from Arne. The wizard looked in horror and the gaping wounds over his torso, blood leaking from them profusely.

"Hester, get us out of here!" shrieked Elle, stricken and panicking. Arne remembered seeing her like that when Geffen was being destroyed. Hester took out a gemstone without hesitation, and Elle ran to Arne, pulling him up to a standing position. He grimaced as his head started swimming, and the feeling in his legs was barely registering. He staggered, and she grabbed him by the arm, steadying him.

When he next looked to Hester, she'd opened the portal.

"You two first," she said. The wizards hurried to the portal; he thought he'd throw up. It was nauseating, and he was starting to notice the feeling that he was losing blood. _That explains how people went missing,_ he thought, trying to ignore the awful churning of his body through the portal.

He emerged in the throne room of Prontera castle, which was empty of everyone except a couple of knights at the door.

"Send for the king and High Priest Canth," said Elle fiercely. It seemed her panic hadn't worn off just by leaving Culvert. One of the knights nodded and dashed out, and other ran to the wizards, and, with Elle, helped Arne into a sitting position. It at least made him feel less dizzy. The knight took out a bottle filled with red potion, and helped tip the stuff down the wizard's throat. Even as he swallowed it, he felt a little strength return to him, the pain ebbed away slightly and his vision sharpened – he hadn't realized it had been slipping out of focus.

Kenji stepped through the portal, and was followed shortly by Hester, and it closed safely behind her.

"Arne, I'm sorry I didn't get to you in time," said the knight, his eyes wide with woe.

"Don't apologise. You don't need to."

Hester knelt down next to him, and began to heal the wounds on his chest. But it was evident that she was exhausted, and the most she could do was stem the bleeding. She looked sorrowfully at the hole in his hand. He held it up, and grimaced, realizing he could see straight through it.

"Even if I had the strength," she said, her voice bare and weak. "I wouldn't be able to heal that properly. It would scar."

At that moment, Tristan came barging anxiously through the doors, followed by a priest who could only be Hester's brother, Canth. He immediately hurried forward and closed Arne's gashes. The wizard had never quite got over the feeling of being healed; watching the skin return normal, the wound melting away, strength returning and the pain disappearing.

Surely enough, when the priest had healed the hole in his hand, there was a sallow patch of skin that looked strained and stretched, with a smooth texture. It looked almost like a star, white against his bronzed skin.

"He'll be OK, right?" said Tristan, staring at Arne with concern written all over his face.

"Master Arne will be fine; he'll need to rest a lot the next few days though. He lost quite a bit of blood," Canth replied. It was true; Arne felt exhausted, and heavy, like his body didn't have the energy to move at all. "Hester, Master Elle, Master Arne, I suggest you go and rest now. I will tend to Kenji."

He made his way over to the lord knight, and the other three did as recommended, setting off in their different directions. Hester could barely lift her feet, and her shoulders sagged as though under tremendous pressure. Tristan escorted Arne to the wizard's quarters in silence. As they reached their destination, Arne began to recount what had happened, but Tristan shushed him.

"Tell me tomorrow," he said firmly. "You're resting now. Good night."

"Night? It's only been a few hours since the midday bell."

The prince just smirked and walked away.

Arne had to say he was intensely relieved to see his bed, and he lay down without a second thought. He knew he should be worried by his near scrape with death, that he should be wondering what that golden bug was, what it was doing, what was going on with Culvert… but unfortunately for all his little worries, sleeping was a much more appealing option.


	10. The Festival of Coll

_The Festival of Coll_

"Oh, ow," moaned Tassy, letting herself lie sprawled across the practice room floor. It was the afternoon break of the first session; six hours they had worked, and the seniors had just picked up the basics of their arduous routine. _It should be alright,_ Kyo had tried to assure herself the night before. _I've worked for six hours and not felt a thing._ But now, stood, back curved in fatigue next to her roommate, an hour break just didn't seem like anywhere near long enough.

"It's ironic that this is supposedly the town of enjoyment," she said, a little fainter than she meant to. "A real treat."

"You two should get some refreshments," said Aravis nonchalantly from the other side of the room. "You only get an hour, and we have a lot of singing to go through."

"We obey, oh embodiment of all that is wrong and evil," murmured Tassy, struggling to her feet. "And while we're there, we should probably ask a professional of some sort to look at our spines."

Kyo grinned; her back wasn't hurting so much, but Tassy had decided to get the most horrible looking gymnastics part of the routine out of the way as quickly as possible, and had spent most of the six hours doing back-flips. Kyo, on the other hand, had only being working through the basics, and her spine felt OK; unfortunately, the rest of her was aching horribly. Her legs pounded with every step, and she couldn't think of anything better to do than lie down and sleep. She was yearning for a bath, running the back of her hand over her glistening forehead.

"I don't think I've ever felt so disgusting in my life," she grumbled, letting her thoughts leak out of her mouth.

"Same," replied the other, walking hunched over.

"And who would like to bet that we'll all wake up tomorrow stiff," said Leo, walking over to greet them. He hadn't done nearly as much physical work as the dancers, but the bards had been hard pressed to perfect their instrumental parts.

"You? And what makes you think you'll wake up stiff?" spat Tassy incredulously.

"Do you have any idea what it's like playing a violin for more than two hours at a time? The fingers on my left hand are on the verge of bleeding! My right elbow will not move!" As proof, he held the fingers of his left hand, the tips of which were red, and had sore-looking channels carved into them by the strings.

They made their way out to the caves; no one could even think of the heat outside. The wave of cold that swept over them was more than welcome. A lot of them had just thrown themselves into the freezing water that lapped peacefully at the cool sands.

"Have you seen the score we've been given?" the bard went on.

"No. But I think that maybe I should consider myself lucky," replied Kyo, placing her warm hands over her clammy cheeks. She felt her legs begin to ache when she sat down. She spotted Kura making her way over, and with her was Taiken and Draco and… _Oh my, Hawk? _She felt her cheeks flush more, and immediately felt embarrassed that he should see her like this. She lay on her front, making a pillow with her hands, and pretended to not see them.

"Kyo, stay where you are please," she heard Kura's voice say after a few moments. She was about to lift her head and question her friend, but Kura just quickly laid her head on Kyo's back and lay down. "Oh, my poor aching feet."

"Taiken, could you put on a red wig and go in there instead of me at the end of the break?" asked Leo on his hands and knees. "I can't take anymore…"

"You big wimps," was Taiken's teasing reply. "So, are you actually going to eat something, or what? I've heard Tassy thinks she's fat."

"You're a fine one to lecture on eating habits," said Hawk with a frown. "The other day, I saw you put sugar on bacon."

"What kind of performance is it?" asked Draco, with a slight snigger in her voice.

"Morrocan style, the first one is," replied Leo. "Very fast, very rhythmic, very full of hip shaking, which would probably be why Kyo's here, and well… you know… you're from Morroc. You know what I mean."

"Indeed I do. How could you tell?"

"Well, um… you know assassins tend to ah… come from there… and there's a rumour that the thief's guild is there and all… so you had to at least have been there, right?"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that rumour; most thieves are thieves because they have no choice, so they couldn't be as organised as to be called a guild. There is a band of rogues who travel in gangs; I guess that must be what the rumour's about."

"Ooh, would you look at that. Leo can think," said Tassy. She was in quite a foul mood at the moment.

"Yep," he said proudly. "It's 'cause I'm not a bimbo."

"I can't wait until Leo has to get onto learning his part of the dance; I'd like to see him in some real pain."

"Steady, Tassy," interjected Kyo sternly.

"Yeah, Tassy," laughed Leo boyishly.

"I don't know about anyone else, but I'm a little tired of listening to Kyo's stomach rumble; I'm getting something to eat," stated Kura.

x-x-x

The second session was no less difficult than the first; the first two hours were spent singing. The song was sung in the Language of the Making, and it told of some weird story about… something. Taiken got Ruriko to translate it, but there were names in there she didn't know. Of course, everyone knew the name Odin, but Balder was a new one. She kept complaining that the word "volva" was the verb to see, but it was used in the song as it was used as a noun. The basic idea of the song, however, was that Balder was having nightmares, and Odin went to this "volva" to find out what it meant.

Thankfully, it was a girl called Cleo who was doing the solo singing parts in between the choruses. After about an hour of practicing, she was complaining that her voice was going to crack. She had a clear, strong, feminine voice, and her solos sounded wonderful.

Fortunately, for the next dance, Kyo was only one of the background people. Unfortunately, it wasn't any easier than being at the front. Also unfortunately, this was the main part for showing off the students' gymnastic capabilities, and unfortunately again, she was partnered with Leo. It wouldn't have been too bad, but unfortunately yet again, they were depicting a battle.

Aravis needed to tutor the leading dancers alone, so the five pairs were sent off to different studios to practice.

When Leo opened the practice room door, he stepped in, scratched his head, and said, "Hey, you're supposed to be here?"

"Well, Kyo's our guild mate," replied a voice, which Kyo recognised as Ruriko's. She felt a little wave of relief, possibly happiness, at hearing herself confirmed as a member of the God's Cry.

The musicians walked in, the dancer a little daunted by her own reflection in the walls of mirrors. Taiken, Ruriko, Chisel and Draco were sat on one of the benches, Hawk was leaning casually against the wall at the other end of the room and Oshi stood, still and silent, in one of the corners.

"Nice daggers," said Draco, with a slight frown.

"Thanks, they're not ours," replied Leo. "We're supposed to be depicting a battle. These things are blunt but they still hurt. I mean, watch…"

Leo raised his weapons over his head, and turned to Kyo. He brought the weapons swooping down through the air, aimed straight for her. She raised her own to block the attack, and the weapons met.

There was a loud clang, and a painful shock shot through her arms, shaking every bone and every joint. She let out a yelp of surprise and dropped her weapons, and heard Leo do the same.

"See? They hurt a lot!" he stated, shaking his hands in an attempt to ease the shock. "I don't know why they didn't give us fake weapons or something. I mean, we are a performing arts school, you'd think they'd have a few lying around…"

"Was that really necessary?" interjected Kyo with a bite of irritation in her voice.

"Well… no, but-…" She didn't bother letting him finish; she leapt into a crouching position, and swung her leg in a deft half-circle. He flew off balance, and landed heavily on his back.

"Revenge."

The rest of the practice didn't go so badly, but it was most certainly exhausting. By the end of it, Kyo ached horribly all over, and sitting down provided little relief. She felt incredibly clammy, and her legs were too tired to support her weight. Just as the stitch in her side was ebbing away, Aravis came in and announced that it was time to do it all again, but this time with everyone else.

Chisel frowned incredulously first at the headmistress, then at the exhausted students. Taiken quickly asked why she was leaving this so late.

"It's a long story," she sighed. "And I don't have time for it right now."

The rehearsal with the rest of the group also didn't go too badly. Kyo didn't know what the other pairs were doing, but the glimpses she caught of them looked remarkably similar to hers and Leo's in terms of difficulty. The instrumental group seemed to be having it rough as well, and the main performers… oh, how she pitied the main performers. For a start, it looked as though they actually needed to know how to handle their weapons properly. But also, their routine was no less difficult than that of the rest of the class, in fact it looked much more difficult, and in addition they were carrying incredibly weighty looking weapons. They had a heavy blade that was at least a foot long mounted to the end of a pole, but the performers had to swing them as though they were as light as air.

Kyo was intensely relieved when she dragged her aching, tired body back to her dormitory. The process of putting on her nightclothes seemed like an arduous task in itself, and she could Tassy muttering, "Never again…"

x-x-x

"Wow, I really love Comodo," Ruriko exclaimed, leaping up and hugging Chisel around the shoulders.

"OK, calm down, shorty," he laughed, giving her a gentle squeeze back before prying her grip loose with one hand and setting her down. She smiled. The blacksmith prided himself on being the only member of the God's Cry to be able to tease Ruriko about being short and not be glared at. In fact, he found he got on with her incredibly well.

"That routine yesterday… phew!" she went on, making a swooping gesture with her arm. "I never realized Kyo was that good! I could never do that."

"Yep. Despite being one of the shyest dancers on Midgard, she's also one of the best. Hey, what are you doing about this festival? It would be easy for you and Draco to get dates, but you could just go with me and Oshi."

"I don't know. I guess I'll go with you and Oshi. I can't think of anyone who I would go on a date with, except ma-…"

She stopped, her eyebrows drawn into a frown.

"What?"

"Huh? Oh, just… well, you know, Sis on a date. Can you imagine that?" she replied nervously. She was lying, of course, but Chisel didn't push it.

"Oh yeah. That would be one for the history books. And my poor rumbling stomach demands lunch. Let's find the others."

x-x-x

After the seemingly impossible first day of rehearsals, the second seemed twice as long. There was, however, the intense relief and assurance that this would be the last time Kyo would ever have to do this. Ever. The thought kept her stable. _Endure,_ she would whisper to herself as her limbs began to sag with fatigue.

Tassy was in a quirky, snappy mood, which Kyo had noted happened when she was tired. Though tiredness showed in his limp stance and tired face, Leo didn't cease in his cheery ways. Kura fell completely silent under the strain.

"We get to sleep up until midday tomorrow," Leo assured them. This brought a slight smile to Tassy's face, Kyo noticed.

The day slugged on in a haze of music and rapid movement, and by the end of it, everyone struggled to the mastery of their parts. The sky was a rich, inky black when they were finished, and they were limping back to their rooms.

Tassy perked up considerably when she was lying in her bed. "It's your first date tomorrow, isn't it?" she asked keenly, bright blue eyes fixed on Kyo.

The other looked away, feeling the heat rise in her face. "No." She didn't know if she was lying or not. Did Hawk think it was a date? If he did and she didn't, wouldn't he be offended? And vice versa?

"Yes it is," Tassy said, wagging her finger at Kyo.

"Well, I… um… I don't really… entirely… I'm just… not sure…" _Oh my, now I'm stuttering about a simple question? Just how serious is this?_ she thought after listening to herself.

"I suggest you find out. Flirt with him a bit. See how he reacts. Honestly, you're so shy…"

Kyo drew back, and buried herself beneath her duvet, despite being already far too warm for her liking. She grimaced to herself beneath the covers, trying to ignore the smouldering heat pressing into her skin. _Flirt with my friend?_ It all sounded quite tarty. _Oh, I just don't know… this is so stupid…_

_I don't know… is it stupid?_

When she next peered out from her bed, mid-morning light was reaching in golden rays into the room. Tassy was just beginning to stir; she rolled over with a slight groan, her eyes creeping open. When she saw Kyo was awake, she leapt up and hoisted her roommate out of bed.

"OK, first, _big_ breakfast. We need it. Secondly, sit down while we can. Thirdly, take baths and make ourselves look fabulous. Any questions?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

x-x-x

Midday painted itself a glorious blue against the sky. The warmth of the day didn't quite reflect the bright silvery sun. There was a distinct breeze on the air and a sparse few clouds, fluffy and white, creeping through the sky. The caves of Comodo were decorated glamorously with silken scarlet ribbons and banners, draped luxurious and lazy over the cold rocks. The large stage stood prominently in the centre with thick clusters of violently sweet-smelling blazing crimson flowers. In small makeshift shelters around the ridges of the mountain were the fireworks, and there had to be at least twenty people managing them, Hawk decided. The beach was left bare and golden.

The hunter stared nervously at the red decoration, ignoring the milling crowds pressing onward to the cafés, instinctively raising his arm for Alder to land on. The falcon did so, crooning reassuringly, one golden eye fastened boldly to Hawk's face. He quickly wondered why he needed reassurance, to which the bird replied with what could only be a smirk, and the image of Kyo floated into his head. Hawk replied sharply that there wasn't anything to be nervous about. He jerked his arm up in a great, swooping movement, forcing Alder to take off. The falcon still carried the superior, smug aura, but gave its partner the usual affectionate nip on the ear.

The "conversations" between a hunter and his falcon were… odd, to say the least. There were no words exchanged. It was emotions that passed between the two, which meant both the bird and the human were confined to the truth, and it was because of this that the relationships were so surprisingly easy to maintain. They retained their own feelings, but they were both able to feel the other's emotions as though they were their own. Hawk had never been able to totally block out Alder, and vice versa, but he had often found that he dreamt of being a falcon, and Alder and he had often been roused by the same nightmares. Hawk, however, was still obstinately trying to get around the fact that he couldn't hide anything from the bird.

"Hey, is that what you're planning to wear?" asked a familiar voice.

Hawk tore his gaze from the retreating falcon, and found, as he expected, Taiken stood with him. The bard sought him out everyday at this time for some reason, insisting they have lunch together. Hawk thought he would've found this gratingly annoying, but he was actually quite flattered.

"There's something else I can wear?" he replied curtly.

"What _were_ you planning to wear?" Taiken asked with a knowing frown.

Hawk frowned also, and gave a nonchalant shrug to his hunters garb. The bard gave a dry snigger, ruffling his golden hair awkwardly.

"It's OK; we have a few hours. You: bathe. Me: find pretty clothes for Hawky-p… What? You can't go to your first date dressed as a hunter."

"…I am a hunter, Taiken."

"Yes, yes, a pretty hunter who goes romping through the woods, hurling pointed sticks at unsuspecting porings and becoming incredibly scruffy."

"I am not incredibly scruffy," he replied stiffly.

"Then you'll have absolutely no problem with making yourself look reasonable. Come along, Hawky-poo."

The hunter frowned, and turned, rolling his eyes, to make his way back to the dormitories. Something important suddenly occurred to him, something that he was vigilant about keeping at bay, something Taiken had mentioned that he… forgot to argue with.

"It isn't a date, Taiken!" he called behind him.

It was only when he was actually stood in front of the bath that he slapped his forehead with a groan, realizing he forgot to argue about Taiken calling him "Hawky-poo."

x-x-x

Kyo kept her eyes on the floor, frightened of what she would find if she looked in the mirror. Tassy was stood behind her, tying ribbons around her hair. Some thin locks had been twisted into delicate braids, fastened with gleaming silver beads. Her hair had been bundled up and tied tightly into a ponytail, then tied loosely into a bun. The result was that her hair came in short, velvety tufts, messy and wild over the back of her head, the little plaits swinging gracefully with the strands and the beads shining. Where she normally would have worn her "cute ribbon", as she and Chisel had taken to calling it, a scarlet ribbon was tied like a band, and the shorter strands of hair still fell forward to frame her face.

She sighed inwardly when she saw that her outfit still showed quite a bit of her legs. She peered glumly at the silken deep red skirt; it was long, and at least covered the back of her, but it was tied at the top of the thigh, leaving a slit in a perfect, delicate V shape, the entire leg exposed. She wore heavy silver earrings, and a scarlet halter-neck, a little more covering than the one she had with her dancers garb, the ribbons overly long and flowing down from the back of her neck until they were brushing uncomfortably against her bare back. She'd been given red gloves, that left her fingers visible, but covered the back of her hands and all of her forearms, and silver bangles glittered and clanged like little bells at her wrists and ankles. Her sandals were thin, and a deep black colour.

"There! Other than the slightly insane looking over the top black and red make-up which I don't think we'll subject you to, you're all done," announced Tassy with undisguised pride.

Kyo nodded. Her roommate was wearing the same as she was, but the blonde girl seemed to know exactly how to hold herself to best flatter her figure and the clothes. Her hair was arranged messily into place by thick, very black hairpins, and she had a silver dragonfly ornament which pulled back a lock of blonde that had been carefully plaited.

"I don't think I can do this," murmured Kyo without thinking, instinctively reaching for her braid, which was normally hanging airily around her waist. Then she remembered that her hair was up, and distracted herself with the silver bands adorning her wrists.

"Honestly, look at yourself," replied Tassy indignantly, pouting slightly, grabbing Kyo forcefully by her shoulders and whirling her around to face the mirror.

Though she didn't want to admit defeat, her mind approved of the reflection thrust before her. The blood red against her pale skin was a flattering contrast, and it seemed to make her hair look a more reddish colour. Her eyes looked more violet now than she had ever seen them, and she noted quietly the curves of her figure. She'd thought the idea that Tassy had about doing her hair was a little stupid, but it looked good. She felt a little flushed, and tried to find something to say.

"See? You look great!" Tassy assured her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Kyo smiled at her friend, still trying to simmer down the boiling worry in her chest. She tried assuring herself that she wasn't horribly nervous about this… meeting, but also that she was almost girlishly excited about it.

As sunset was beginning to blare red and gold across the sky, the bards and dancers proceeded to the stage, where they may or may not be able to perform their routine without any mishaps. The bards tuned and checked their instruments nervously, and the dancers were stretching out their muscles, some of them doing the occasional cartwheel. Kyo kicked her right leg out, quickly testing her manoeuvrability in her skirt. She was so nervous, her head was beginning to throb. All the mistakes she could make seemed horribly evident and more than possible.

x-x-x

"First part is the school's performance. Then the poor students are free to go, and Kyo and Tassy will meet up with us," explained Taiken, ruffling Hawk's hair lightly. The hunter frowned at the affectionate gesture, and stared wistfully at the bow and arrows left in the corner of the room. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't been carrying them around. But when he had seen both Oshi and Draco discard their armour, silent and movement constricting bandages and katars, he had sighed and conceded to leaving his weapons also.

He felt odd; his life had been played in two parts: the first half was when his mother was alive, the second was spent fighting. So now, he was a fighter. But now he was discarding his weapons and falling in love. The soft, unworn clothes felt odd against his skin. He missed the extravagant helm, which normally served to keep his hair out of his eyes. He looked at his arms and found linen sleeves, not wristbands that stopped his grip on a bow slipping. He diverted his gaze quickly over to his companion, who watched the hunter impatiently for a reaction.

"Me and Tassy will double date with you two if you want," he said with a smirk.

"It's not a date," Hawk shot back instantly. He suddenly cringed outwardly when he remembered the words "falling in love" had flitted across his mind. _Oh, great,_ a voice in his head grumbled, when he saw the bard's face lighten with laughter. _I wasn't supposed to do that…_

"Hey, whether it's a date or not hardly matters now; the fact is you're _nervous._" Taiken said it in an annoyingly boyish singsong voice. But unfortunately, he was right, and Hawk wanted to throttle him.

He made no attempt to lie about it, and instead evaded the statement, walking straight for the door of their room. He caught a sideways glance of what he was wearing, but he refused to see himself in the clothes; only the clothes as they were. The main colours were red and black - much too bold for his liking. He wore a reasonably long black muffler, which seemed to flatter his broad shoulders, and black trousers. The boots covering his feet were comfortable, and felt new. The deep red long-sleeved shirt was slightly baggy, and looked expensive. His hair was now… floppy, and smooth, now that it wasn't constricted by either a bandana or the golden head adornment. He quickly wondered if it looked like he'd made too much effort.

Taiken followed him, wearing a smirk no doubt, and they found Oshi waiting silently outside of their door. The assassin looked quite a bit less menacing without his katars and armour. He looked almost… "normal" - a little scruffy, and a little reluctant to go to the festival - but… like a man who hadn't killed someone for money. But the sharp, expressionless grey eyes still scowled darkly.

Chisel was with him, but he wore a jacket over his plain white shirt, which he'd buttoned up. His cart wasn't with him, which, to Hawk, looked odd. He wasn't wearing the boyish cap he usually wore, but he still wore jeans, just not with the heavy, hardwearing blacksmiths shoes. He actually seemed a little relieved at the arrival of Taiken and Hawk; he'd never been very good at managing Oshi's silences.

Thankfully, Ruriko and Draco were ready to go - Ruriko could be in front of a mirror preening herself for hours at a time, when she thought she had the time. Draco was wearing a simple sleeveless dress in a deep violet colour. Ruriko was adorned in a black dress that dragged across the floor, and had wide sleeves of silken shreds. There was a bold red ribbon tied around her waist, making the fabric cling to her figure, and she kept her witch's hat.

The school was empty as they made their way through it; the younger students went to the festival quite early.

As soon as they were outside of the school, they found themselves almost instantly stood in a wild, milling crowd, the buzz of constant chatter booming around the caves. Hawk noted with a feeling of both disdain and insecurity the proximity of lively strangers and the wide-eyed, shining stares directed at him. The stage was clearly visible, now adorned with glowing black lanterns that cast an autumn red glow over the cave. Through the barrage of energetic speech came the sound of various musicians tuning their instruments or testing their percussion with a deft thump.

He stared, a little anxiously over the heads of the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of Kyo. He was disappointed and a little bitter not to find her. He sighed inwardly, and turned to Taiken, hoping the bard would have something to say.

He stood silent, however, tugging irritably at a stray lock of blond hair. Suddenly, the ringing of violins, all playing the same note, streamed through the atmosphere: the instrumentalists checking their tuning. The audience fell to expectant hush, and the tone of many instruments merged into a complete, perfect sound.

They swung back into complete silence, the audience still and filled with anticipation. Then their tune began: suddenly, a metallic, heavy drum pounded into the air, furious, loud and steady. Six dancers, dressed in flowing black, cartwheeled and somersaulted smoothly and rhythmically onto the stage, and applause exploded over the crowd. The drums hammered on, the dancers scuffing and stamping in perfect sync with the sound, twirling abruptly and clapping their hands strongly. Their sharp, deft movements seemed random and wild, exotic. But they began to move with each other, a subtle merging of motion, as an echoic, haunting sound shuddered beneath the percussion. It swelled and cackled sinisterly.

The tune leapt in, a shivering, mournful sound. The dancers responded instantly, their flow becoming more graceful and deft, arms moving in swift swooping circles, and their sandaled feet stamping furiously.

A hollow, ferocious shaking instrument boomed in, and the main performers entered, dressed in luxurious red. Their hips shook and flowed in a wild frenzy, both exotic and incredibly beautifully, scarlet skirts swishing in a blur of silk. A light, soft guitar skewered through the harsh wooden instruments, soft and energetic. Hawk's heart skipped a beat as he stared at the dancers in crimson: one of them was Kyo.

The entire sound of the tune was coarse and beautiful. The solid pounding drums blitzed through the cave, rattling and amazing. The dancers moved fast and precise, black and red silk fluttering behind them. Hawk's attention slipped from them, however, and he found all human speech had left him, caught again in Kyo's dance. As far as he saw, there was nothing and no one around him; no crowd screaming its appreciation, no stage, no decorations, no black-clothed background dancers… just Kyo, dressed softly in her red silk, her dance beautiful, exotic, wonderful, so filled with swift and graceful movement.

He thought of her; her bright violet-blue eyes, the slender figure and soft skin, her sweet nature and silent humility, how she smiled at him always, the subtle timidity and charming kindness to her beauty, the admiration and affectionate reliance she carried for him…

The finale of the music poured in, and the absence of the pounding drums and the appreciative, applauding roar of the crowd brought the hunter roughly back to his senses. He followed suit and cheered with the audience, a little sullenly, confused and agitated by where his thoughts had been leading. He allowed his gaze to focus on her again; she stood tall and beautiful, a smile filled with relief and joy over her delicate face as the final chord, strummed elegant and strong on the guitar, rippled sharply through the atmosphere.

The second performance was a song, fast, striking and bizarre, a tambourine ringing ominously through the chorus and a ferocious drum. The chorus would fall to complete silence, and a girl would sing a slow, smooth verse in a clear voice, peaceful and doleful, resonating the walls of the cave and stirring tears in the eyes of the singer's audience. Few, if any, understood the words sung wonderfully by the choir and the soloist, but the sound lifted the very souls of its listeners, filling them with melancholy and serene sadness, not knowing the effect the tranquil, heartening and sombre music.

The next dance was entirely rhythmic; the pounding of the drums seemed to shake the caves and shatter the rocks. Hawk almost felt his ribs shuddering out of place beneath the mighty sound. Kyo was forced to the background for this dance, but she was easily distinguished from the intense flurry of movement. He had to concentrate sternly to keep his focus on the main performers, dressed in bronze, but he allowed his vision to flit back to her frequently, usually to make sure that she did the parts of the routine he'd seen her practice and knew she had difficulty with. She did them all perfectly. He allowed himself to smile when he saw this.

The applause flooded the area again. The dancing girls dressed in black stepped forward and took a bow, smiling sweetly at their more than appreciative audience. The other groups of musicians stepped forward to the sound of cheers and golden approval. When Kyo came to the front of the stage, along with Tassy, the soloist from the song, and the bronze clad gymnasts, the crowd exploded into new levels of delight, shouting themselves hoarse and pounding their hands together. It was deafening.

The caves occupants bustled noisily out and became eventually spread in chattering clumps of people across the beach beneath a deep velvety blue sky. Rapid music had begun; sweet violins, a solid drum and the furious strumming of many guitars. Fireworks were beginning to rocket away, whistling shrilly before exploding into a riotously bright array of colours, glittering fiercely.

Hawk looked to Taiken, possibly for an explanation, but the bard was silently scanning the crowd.

"That was awesome!" Ruriko yelled over the din.

"Yeah, let us take a moment to be incredibly proud of our Kyo," declared Chisel.

Taiken found who he was looking for, slipping polite and smiling through the crowd and drawing the stares of those she passed by. "Aha! My favourite bimbo!"

Tassy nudged him with her elbow, then Hawk directed his attention to Kyo, who had her eyes fixed on him apprehensively. She quickly looked down, blushing slightly, when she saw he'd noticed her; he smiled to himself and pretended not to notice.

"Most impressive," said Oshi with what sounded like traces of admiration, which was extravagant praise from him. It was possible, Alder informed the hunter, that he had noticed the slightly awkward exchange of glances and sought to remedy it; he was, after all, an assassin, and more than required to notice what went on around him. Hawk frowned at the falcon, scoffing at the idea of Oshi speaking on his behalf. He then went on, lying, insisting that it wasn't awkward.

It certainly was for her, the bird concluded, with a smugness so very similar to Taiken's.

"Truly," concurred Draco, smiling warmly at Kyo. "What kind of music is this?" she asked, cocking her head slightly in the direction of the caves, where the music rang merrily from the entrance.

"Just a lot of old folk tunes," replied Tassy casually. "_Very _old; the lyrics are in the Language of the Making. We tried translating some of them once, and we got something along the lines of the counsel in the well; that's kind of strange, but it was either that or something about porings and shoes. Since porings lack this little thing we call feet, we decided it must have been the part about the well."

Ruriko scoffed and frowned, then smirked. Hawk didn't know any of the runes for the words Tassy mentioned, and they probably did sound the same, but that wouldn't matter to Ruriko. As difficult to grasp linguistically as it was, to her, the Language of the Making came as naturally as speaking in common-tongue. Her aunt had taught her, she'd said, and she would have become a wizard, but she and Draco severed their attachments to their parents before anything could be done to secure their futures.

"Do you think you could get the lyrics to some of these songs?" she asked.

"Sure. I'm betting Taiken's forgotten them all."

Taiken frowned as several pairs of eyes fixed on him, then pretended to be incredibly interested in a firework that fell in a glittering rainbow above them.

"Come on, bimbo," he said, snapping out of his "daze". "Dance time."

Tassy smirked, and she and Taiken strode further up the beach, where a rather large crowd had bloomed into existence out of seemingly nowhere. In fact, it seemed to spread itself in a whirling, furiously energetic bulk across most of the beach, comprised entirely of enthusiasm, people blitzing joyfully over the dark sand.

Hawk began to feel nervous again, remembering with a worried ache in his throat that at a festival, he would be expected to dance. He tried to assure himself that Kyo was probably equally nervous.

"I was supposed to ask Taiken why I'm here," murmured Oshi, frowning at the exit the bard had just taken, but he didn't carry the snide irritation that would normally accompany such a phrase from the assassin.

"Food!" exclaimed Ruriko, perking up without warning. There was a bemused and benign exchange of smiles, and Chisel, Draco, Ruriko and Oshi filed away into the crowd. Hawk watched them leave, and when Kyo made no kind of move to follow, neither did he.

Of course, he was scared this would happen; just the two of them, left alone, in a rather uncomfortable silence. _This is Taiken's doing, I bet,_ he thought grudgingly to himself, his teeth grit together. His thoughts directed at the bard, he quickly spotted Taiken dancing exuberantly with Tassy among the crowd. He'd never seen him enjoy himself; it was true that Taiken did get a bit of a kick out of stretching peoples emotions (_mine especially..._), but that wasn't a game, and he knew it. But to see the wise-leader of the God's Cry really letting himself relax... not having to manage his guild mates, have any decisions to make, no battles to fight, and Hawk further up the beach and not within annoying distance...

_Well, I was able to tell him about my father..._

Another firework spread itself in a glittering montage of bright colours, the sudden boom making Kyo jump. Hawk watched her curiously from the corner of his eye. She heaved a subtle sigh, and spoke up. "Um... Hawk? Sir?"

"You don't need to call me sir," he replied quietly, the heat rising in his face slightly. However, he forced himself to look at her directly.

"OK, Hawk," she said, faltering slightly as though about to add "sir" to his name again. "It's just... well... Tassy's been quite annoying about it... well... she says that... this is a date and... I didn't really know how to answer."

He blinked a few times, waiting for the message to sink in. She looked frightened for perhaps a second or less, before averting her gaze, blushing furiously.

"I mean, if it is a date," she murmured quickly and quietly; he had to strain his ears to hear her over the music and the incessant babble of the crowd. "Then... I'm OK with that, but if it isn't, then-..."

"Well, do you... want it to be a date?"

She pretended that a lock of her hair was bothering her, and made a subtle movement that was distinctly a nod.

He took a still moment to feel flushed and pleased with himself before replying, "A date it is."

She nodded again, her expression happy and relieved, a little dazed even. She continued to tug self-consciously at her hair.

"So what do you want to do then?" he continued, not wanting them to fall back to an awkward silence. He was determined to make this work.

_For some reason,_ he quickly added.

The question took her by surprise, it seemed. She looked flustered for a second, then answered, "I guess we should go and get some drinks. But I'm... well, if I act really weird, it isn't my fault."

He laughed, and extended his hand out to her, with Alder's assurance ringing through his mind. Of course, he had no reason to think she wouldn't take it, but that didn't stop him from being nervous.

She clasped her hand around his within a second, and they wove their way through the crowd, and, much to his annoyance, drew slightly awed stares from the people they passed. But her being close at his side was more of a comfort than he thought possible. She was most definitely leaning into him and almost clinging to him. If she were standing any closer, it would have been more than tempting to pull her into his arms. But he contented himself with her affectionate presence.

The wine served was mastela wine, a sweet, purple liquid, something that Hawk had never tasted before. Kyo had never tasted it either, as her eyes widened considerably when she swallowed it. He laughed, to which she tapped him lightly with her foot. She sniffed the mixture childishly, before shrugging, and swallowing the entire glass in one.

"Wo..." she murmured, her eyes glazed a little and staggering slightly. He suppressed a laugh and gulped down his own drink, and almost immediately saw his vision blotch slightly and his posture relax; mastela wine was apparently quite strong. "Oh... no, I'm going to go all giggly now," she continued, a smile clear and her at ease.

"I don't remember the last time I got drunk; I think it made me smile vaguely then collapse."

It took a few more glasses before he could really begin to feel the effects of being drunk. It seemed he set his glass down, a smile fell over his features and his vision swayed precariously in front of him. The world sloshed, deepened in colour and softened around the edges; it was a pleasant feeling. Suddenly, some of the things he would've considered ridiculous became fine; there were still lines he had drawn for himself, everything was light, and all consequence were removed from action. Light and easy was the world, and he didn't need a care in the world.

She must have caught the vague expression in his eyes, with interest judging by the smile and clear shine in her eyes. "Since you're suitably intoxicated, can we dance?"

"I can learn," he replied, with an inward casual shrug. He told himself it was casual, but there was still the niggling nervousness threatening to creep back into his system, and Alder's sharp, sober presence was still audible and unmistakably amused.

She allowed herself to giggle slightly, then seized his hand, gently, and led him back through the crowd. He watched the people and places around him slip by in a blurry haze of movement, the sound of the music in the background became woolly and not as clear. He was free of trouble. He didn't need to be alert. He didn't need to be able to draw a bow or fire an arrow. He wasn't troubled.

Within a few seconds, he stood with Kyo in front of Taiken and Tassy. Taiken was more than amused.

"Wow, Hawk knows what wine looks like?" he laughed.

Hawk looked benignly at the bard, and felt no annoyance. "I'm just as surprised as you are."

"And he really mellows out!"

"Hey, they teach archers basic grace don't they?" Kyo asked suddenly. Hawk turned to her, and blinked in what must have been surprise. He recalled being taught how to dance, but the memories were groggy and blackened, not remembering if he liked it or if he was even any good at it. He shrugged, deciding to find out.

His nervousness was gone. There wasn't any reason to be nervous, not in this state of mind. He took her hand, and listened vaguely to the music, and pulled her to close to him. She stared into his face, expectant, intrigued, and flattered it seemed.

With a final assurance from Alder and a shock of resolution (and since Taiken had decided now would be a good time to yank Tassy back into a dance), he slid his loose hand around her waist. He walked forward to the tune, and she moved back. They did this a few steps, before he caught her ankle, and gave her little push upwards with his foot; she responded by kicking her leg around in a full, perfect circle, spinning around, stood on one pointed foot, and she brought her leg around as though she were sat cross legged, and he caught her against his chest, his hand still holding hers.

She inclined her head to his briefly, so briefly that he wasn't sure it had happened, before turning slightly to face him to smile. Their faces were almost dangerously close to one another, and he let himself see her as the beautiful young woman she was.

She swung back around to face him entirely, and their own little dance continued. Not only was he enraptured in her dance, he was part of it. The feeling was wonderful. It was a fast, whirling dance, and he found it surprisingly easy to adapt to her rapid movements. Her proximity was more than welcome, and he savoured the brief moments when their bodies were pressed together and their faces were close. And this was most certainly… _fun_. He could most certainly see why the people of Comodo loved their parties. For fragments of moments at a time, he could almost the feel the amazing release from reality that made the residents of the town let themselves go and enjoy themselves as much as they could. There wasn't any need for sadness.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy; he spent as much time as he could dancing with Kyo. He found his favourite movement was during a slow, sweet tune; he didn't know he moved first, but he found her in his arms, staring fondly into his face. He gazed back, smiling softly, allowing himself to feel the way he felt about her. He couldn't believe how much he cared about her. He couldn't believe how much he depended on her to make him feel… good. She was his best friend. But now she was more.

The rest of the evening passed in a fog of contentment and motion. He spent every moment with Kyo. Taiken and Tassy joined them, "suitably intoxicated", the effect being that Tassy's speech was slurred and irregular and Taiken couldn't stop laughing. Hawk couldn't believe how much he was enjoying himself; he could laugh aloud, he could relax, he didn't need to worry about anything. The night etched itself into his fondest memories, and he would keep it forever. The night when he was truly happy. He stared at the full moon, silver and glorious, casting a white stream of light over the deep black of the sky, and the echoes of reds and golds from the fireworks that blitzed from the mountain.

He was quite sullenly disappointed when the midnight bell signalled the closing of the festival. The musicians in the cave played their last chord, and were gone. The crowd began to disperse, their faces shining with joy and their bodies sagging with fatigue.

"Anyone else a little… pooped?" asked Kyo.

"Indeed," laughed Taiken. "Time for bed, kiddies."

They started to make their way back to the dormitories, Hawk halting to look one last time at the full moon spread bright and amazing across the sky. Kyo stood with him as he did this, and held his hand as they entered the school. They walked a little way behind Taiken and Tassy.

"I'm really glad you enjoyed yourself," she whispered.

He squeezed her hand lightly, and threaded his fingers through hers. "I'm glad you asked me to come."

He couldn't say anymore, however, as they stood in front of the dormitory doors.

"Well, good night then," he said, a little bitterly. Under Alder's instruction and the vague, content feeling still sloshing merrily around his mind, he leaned forward. He hesitated to check her reaction, and was relieved to see her move closer to him. He closed the gap between them, and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and felt her do the same.

"Good night," she replied, a little flushed. He gave a little wave, before turning and departing to join Taiken. The bard regarded him with a strange look, smiling incredulously, both amused and curious.

"So how was your little meeting? Did you enjoy it?" he asked.

Hawk frowned, and he found an odd little feeling rise in his chest. He couldn't decipher it, and he didn't bother trying. He just replied, with a smile and the exact words he meant to. "It's called a date, Taiken."


	11. Guardians

_Guardians_

Marius surveyed his student. He used the term "student" loosely, as it is in itself a loose term. He was trying to teach this student to focus his magic in a different way, which involved completely changing the way the caster's thoughts worked. It was like breaking a particularly vital and addictive habit, only harder.

Marius' casting was ruled primarily by a calm, patient want to help, which worked well, considering he was a monk. In fact, he was one of the five Champions of Gonryun. He regarded everything with calm detachment. The most startled reaction anyone had seen from him had been a nonchalant "oh dear."

His student, he had long decided, was far too organized. He got incredibly agitated if something couldn't be logically ordered into a new, viewable easily-digested something.

They were stood in one of the vast, seemingly useless rooms of Gonryun temple. Gonryun was a cluster of floating islands linked by a spidery network of rickety rope bridges (people would often shriek in protest at the prospect of crossing one of these, seeing them creak, frail and crisp, in even the slightest breeze. But the inadequate looking structures became mysteriously, almost obediently, stable under the foot of those welcome to the islands). The entire mesh of land was named after the temple, Gonryun, cut into the caverns of the largest island. The closest translation for _gonryun_ was "heart of the island." The temple was vast and beautiful, every inch of the walls dazzling with mantras. Navigating the temple was a mercilessly confusing task; the web of rooms was complex, and most decidedly had not been designed with any kind of logic in consideration, as though the builders had just been making it up as they went along. There were a lot of rooms that seemed to handle the apparently vital task of "filling up space."

Marius liked to think of it as organized chaos.

"You're trying to organize it again, Akiro," he said sternly to the young man; he tried to sound stern, but shaking with amusement as the fireball hovering above the sage's palm sheepishly spluttered into a mess of sparks and flames, and obediently became as disorganized as possible.

"I don't understand emotion based magic," said Akiro mildly. "How are you supposed to stop it from going out of control?"

"It's fairly simple," replied Marius knowingly. "You control your emotions."

"Well, that's a nice simple concept for a monk." Akiro shrugged. "What happens if you get angry, then?"

"I wouldn't know."

Akiro smirked at him – his way of letting Marius know he wanted a more airtight answer.

"Well, you shouldn't be casting anything if anger is the root of your focus, because anger is a loss of focus. You would either not be able to cast anything at all or you'd end up blowing your own arms off." Akiro probably knew this already, but he either liked pretending to be less than he was, or he was simply curious.

"These "poisons" monks talk about… is that what they are?"

"Yes. They are qualities that keep you grounded and unable to focus."

"And I guess there must be opposites to these poisons?"

"Obviously, or emotion driven magic wouldn't work. You should probably ask Ruriko about it."

"I doubt she'd be able to word it."

"Marius," said someone sternly from the other end of the pale room. Marius knew only too well who it was. He turned to face his twin sister, Mariel. "We're needed. Now. I believe we have a crisis."

Marius didn't argue. He followed Mariel at a trot, along with Akiro.

"Some of the acolytes just teleported in. They came from the old court," she explained in a monotone. "They were nearly dead."

Marius regarded this news silently before responding. "I thought the court was safe."

At the north end of town (on the largest island) were the ruins of a palace in the caves of the mountain that loomed above the inhabitants of Gonryun. It was thousands of years old, dating back to the time of division, where every region was it's own separate kingdom, instead of being united under the banner of Prontera. There was only one entrance. The place had fallen into disrepair. It tended to be used as a kind of secret meeting place.

"We all thought so," replied Mariel mildly. "However, four of our acolytes are gravely injured, one is missing and another will not survive the night."

x-x-x

They passed the unfortunate acolytes on their way to the surface. Akiro stared at the monks' calm expressions; they weren't looking at the children. A dark haired boy, of around seven or eight, lay silent, his head in the lap of the one of the lesser monks knelt next to him. His eyes were glazed and teary, focused on nothing, and he was barely moving. His clothes were littered with clean, jagged gashes and were drenched in blood. A broken, splintered mess of a club lay next to him. He would be dead by sunrise.

The other four were equally young. They were scarlet with blood, but their faces were strained and white, stricken and crying with fear. One was wailing and clutching her companion's arm tightly.

Marius and Mariel wasted no time in getting to the surface, and they stepped out into one of Gonryun's glorious, bronze sunsets. Sixteen of the lesser monks were assembled and waiting with another of the champions, Kalis.

"Miku said something about a "big snake dragon," said Kalis, securing a pair of armguards in place. "We should hopefully be able to kill it."

"Hopefully?" said Marius gravely.

"It's a miracle they got out alive; we'll leave it at that, shall we," she replied blandly, tilting her head in the direction of the traumatized acolytes. She turned and led them through the town, directly to the court.

The streets were emptying; merchants counted their day's zeny with a series of wealthy clinks, children were called in by their mothers, a group of swordsmen were having a rather heated debate about where they were to spend the night… The bustle of evening activity would dampen as soon as the monks came within sight, as though they were emanating some kind of contagiously calming aura, striding deliberately with grim and emotionless faces.

The old court… _felt_ different. The rock face was now scarred with shadows, and all feeling of warmth and familiarity had been drained from the tired place. Akiro used to play there when he was a boy – there was still the burn on the door from where he'd been… showing off – but now it felt like a madman's playground. Darkness loomed in a clawed cloud around the entrance, coaxing him inside with kind promises of death.

He shook his head. It had to have just been his imagination.

Mariel edged the heavy, red stone door open, and it groaned and rumbled into a dank silence. Akiro winced.

They were immediately met with a rush of air – not the normal gusts of winds that stir the grass. It didn't stir anything into movement, but it threw the atmosphere into blurry disarray; it was sharp and cold, and had a metallic taste and the feel of a blade. The sage looked to Marius, and was slightly relieved to see that the monk had felt it too. He marched forward and led the others in.

Akiro realized that he didn't have any Rodusha cards with him, with a slightly sickening feeling. He thankfully had a pouch filled with gemstones, but no cards. With a nauseating sensation of frailty, he lit his staff with a spell of sight, and heard the rush of spirit spheres. The space fell into a glow of magic, lit, but the darkness fell scowling back into the silent and sneering shadows. He felt a swoosh of wind beneath him, like the beating of wings, and immediately felt lighter, and heard a blessing with his name in it.

Spirit spheres were a reasonably new discovery, and had lead to rapid growth within the monk caste. People still weren't entirely sure about them, and of course, people don't like what they don't understand. Monks were the only ones who were really willing to tamper with them, in the same way that only sages would tamper with "_Abracadabra_" the most unstable chant in the Language of the Making, only hunters would tame a falcon, only crusaders would use the Holy Cross and only the sparse rangers would call nature to their assistance in their territory. Spirit spheres were the closest thing to raw magic that humans could achieve; humans could enchant objects, they could focus energy into things, they could write runes in the Language of the Making and had found ways to stop the words escaping – they could put magic into things, but spirit spheres didn't require such "cruel" ways to keep them where they were needed. They had enough intelligence to know what was needed, but they weren't necessarily alive.

Some necromancers had claimed that their spirit spheres had distinctive personalities, but since a lot of a spirit sphere's mannerisms depend on it's creator ("creator" is used loosely, as they aren't actually created by the caster. The beginnings of spirit spheres, the affectionately dubbed "constalites", were always around - the caster just enhanced them. The constalites tended to flock to people who summoned spirit spheres often), and something about a necromancer's abilities and the way they went about their lives led to the creation of some very unstable spirit spheres indeed.

The old court was wide and spacious, but it was overrun with dampness and moss; fallen pillars lay in pieces, and cracked and broken tiles were weighted rebelliously to the floor. With darkness falling in great folds around them, it seemed more constricted than anything else. Murky pools of water oozed arbitrarily over the jagged ground, vines strangled the rocks and the air was heavy with malice and difficult to breath. The statues still stood, but they were given life now, with shadows crawling over them, making them glare and jeer.

Akiro seemed to remember it being a rather pleasant when he was young.

"Wait," he said to the monks, almost pleadingly. They turned curiously towards him. He could sense a most wretched, sagging blackness on the air. It was an uncontrollable bloodlust, an insatiable fury, maddening confusion, sickening rage, a blank determination… it was the same relentless desire to kill that gripped the Lord of Death. "It… won't stop at anything," he tried. He didn't know if they could sense it. "It'll kill you. You should stay behind." _Well, I can't exactly run, can I,_ he thought grimly. He'd rather die, standing his ground alone, than lead others to their deaths.

"It's our duty to make sure it doesn't harm anyone else," stated Kalis. The lesser monks looked to Marius for confirmation.

"Lead the way, Akiro," he said.

The air a rush of protests, Akiro traipsed the path his senses urged him not to. The thought that he wasn't required to stay seemed very appealing, but leaving would be the most sickening thing he could do. His eyes shot to the east end of the entrance hall; there were hollows in the rocks like gaping hungry mouths.

His heart stopped as a twig snapped beneath his foot. Kalis walked boldly next to him, her face set. He brought them to a silent halt in front of one of the cave mouths, and peered hard into the shadows, the nauseating feeling that the creature would emerge at any second.

Akiro would scold himself later for this ridiculous mistake. He paused to ready a lightning bolt. He heard Kalis shout, "_Focus!_" He looked up and fell out of the concentration, and heard the splitting of rocks. The creature stormed through the gap in the mountain with a hissing scream and a blur of scarlet and white, and a jumble of things lunged at them. Akiro and Kalis leapt back, and he aimed his spell at some kind of area that he hoped was it's head, and heard Kalis bark an order at her spirit spheres, and they streaked into an attacking formation.

Snakes emerged from the fray of magic – brilliant, blazing white snakes, like ivory. They brandished long steely fangs from they snapping mouths. One reared and hissed, and appeared to swallow the spirit spheres whole. Another, threw itself at Kalis, and she raised her hands. They found a grip on the attacker's mouth. Her arms shook in their sockets from the effort of the grapple – she couldn't win. She spat out her chant, and a bright white holy light ignited beneath the bladed teeth, exploding dramatically and spraying the wall black with what could only be blood.

The monks streamed forward, striking the creature with metal fists, pounding into a pit of snakes. There was an unbelievable amount of snakes! Akiro searched with wide eyes for the "source", and found what appeared to be a white suit, ripped formidably and red with blood. The snakes unfurled themselves from the collar and sleeves of the robe, all vicious and ruby-eyed. The reptilian heads twisted and lunged after the monks, their jaws making _clap _noises that made him wince.

An ear-splitting rush of magic, and a lesser monk sank his fist into a head with an earthy _THUD_, and ploughed straight through, landing deftly on the other side. He looked quite weakened by the endeavour, but a snake dangled, limp and useless from a sleeve of the suit. The monk wheeled around to meet the attack of another head.

Another hefty punch, from Mariel this time, aimed straight for the robe, sent the creature careening into the wall. It reacted quickly, sending a snake after her. She was thrown to the ground, a fang piercing her right shoulder. With mild exasperation, she healed the wound with ease, and pummelled her knuckles into the eye of the offending reptile.

Akiro conjured up the spell of Jupiter Thunder, feeling the bite of electricity in his palm. He threw it at the robe, but the crackling energy soared after the snakeheads, pinning a lot of them to the floor beneath them. This burning, pulsing magic keeping it trapped, the creature screamed like a cymbal and thrashed madly against its electrical bond. A strained head caught a rotting pillar and it toppled towards the monks, and Akiro panicked – he shouted out his chant, and a fireball rocketed at the heavy stone, flinging it across the hall. The monks had charged at the struggling creature, but among the blur of reptilian rage, they couldn't get close. Marius was summoning spirit spheres, which blossomed into the air, then darted at it. Several of the lesser monks had been buffeted back, and a muttering of healing spells lit the air.

The lightning pinning it shattered like a mirror. It flew into an upright position, and snakes streaked out from the robe, tunnelling through the air, and meeting the bodies of seven monks caught roughly off guard. Glittering fangs ripped through their torsos, even that of one lesser monk who glowed with the strong, defensive energy granted by the sacrifice of spirit spheres. They fell. Akiro felt the dampening on the air as lives faded.

Marius ran to one, who was struggling to her feet. Akiro looked back to see a snake ready to rake ferociously at his skin. He instinctively seized a gemstone from his pouch and cast a shield. The snake collided with a wall of blue energy, which shattered instantly, and the force threw him back before he could think. Little coloured dots danced across his vision as his head struck a wall, and he had a dim image of a giant dove flying straight at him.

As he realized it was a snake, he heard a strained, hurried prayer of holy light, and the space between himself and his attacker exploded with white energy. He turned to his rescuer, to discover that it was one of the injured lesser monks, whose body went limp and lifeless a second later. Silently thanking the monk, Akiro cast a quick ice spell, encasing the serpent in cold. He wasted no time in smashing it with his staff. Kalis, Mariel, and the remaining lesser monks were struggling with the other heads, and Marius had healed the three monks who'd survived. They rose uneasily to their feet and teleported away. A little relieved at this image, Akiro summoned up another lightning bolt.

Marius caught a head before it struck him, and a cluster of spirit spheres struck the robe, along with Akiro's lightning. The champion punched the weakened snake, then spun around and kicked it, once with each foot in quick succession. The sage took out a pair of gemstones with fiery orange glow.

"_Abracadabra_," Akiro whispered menacingly. The ground beneath the creature roared with holy fire – Magnus Excorsimus, the purest kind of hallowed energy. It sang bright white, and the creature retched and screamed against its purity. Marius gave an approving nod to the sage, and reached out his hand and let it rest in the holy energy.

But the creature targeted him again. He dodged one head, and it swerved uncomfortably past him. Another flew out of nowhere and smashed its muscular, scaled body into his stomach. His vision blackened, and a sharp earthy pain blurted out that his head had been split open. A Mariel-shaped white blur battered into the snake, and muttered a quick healing at him. She grappled with her foe, before knocking the head up with an uppercut, and giving it a roundhouse kick straight into its fang. It drew back, shrieking. Another snake answered, shooting straight at her. She was thrown against the wall with a dizzyingly loud _BANG!_, and fell unconscious.

Akiro woke sharply from his daze, and telekinetically punched Mariel's attacker, catching it in its shining red eye. He was quickly pinned by a gaping, fanged mouth, and Marius ran to his rescue this time. He fought his way through a cluster of heads. Akiro quickly enchanted his hands with lightning, and latched them firmly onto the serpent's head. It reared and snapped in pain, two black burns either side of its face.

Akiro blinked, a blank idea spinning into his mind and making him sag with dread. The heads weren't being subdued. There were dead snakes hanging like vines from the robe, but there seemed to be even more heads than there were before. Each time one of the snakes died…

Two more would take its place.

_Oh, shit…_

Marius was thrown back and skidded across the mud. In a streak of blue light, he vanished and reappeared next to his target. (It wasn't teleporting, but it wasn't not teleporting either.) He drew back his fist and swung it at the bloodstained robe. It only seemed to crease it slightly; the snakes targeted him. He pounded into the group of heads, limbs becoming a blur of movement and hits. A myriad of spirit spheres shot into the creature from seemingly nowhere, and Akiro threw a lightning bolt at it. Several snakes furled around precariously, and with a sudden _whoosh_ hurled themselves at the monks. What felt like relief littered their faces as they strafed around the attack – but there was still the crunch of crushed bones from somewhere. The injured teleported away quickly.

"Marius, we're getting nowhere," Akiro shouted urgently.

Marius regarded the statement grimly as he smashed his leg into the palette of a serpent's mouth and leapt out of the way of another.

"He's right; everyone, retreat," he called after about a second.

A streak of blue light ran cleanly through the creature and Kalis stepped away from it, and immediately broke into a run towards the unconscious Mariel. Several of the lesser monks teleported with haste. Akiro turned to run, having to throw himself to the ground to avoid an attacking snakehead. He scrambled up frantically, and sprinted for the door, Marius close behind.

Akiro's ears were roaring. All the places he'd hit his head throbbed in protest with each step, and he could still feel the fury of the snake creature behind him. There was a cry and a smashing of something against rock, and the sagging of the air that came with death. The familiar rush of an attacking serpent, and a hurried teleport chant. He conjured a lightning bolt and threw it over his shoulder at the creature, and heard a roar of both anguish and annoyance. He heard them gain a little distance.

He summoned another bolt, and began to throw it, but something bashed painfully into his back, right between his shoulder blades. The air was pummelled out of his lungs, and he fell forward, gasping, dimly aware of the flash of lightning cast quite some way over to the left of the troop – he'd dropped the spell.

He suddenly felt someone forcefully lifting him to his feet, and helping him stumble to the door. There was a whistle of spirit spheres attacking. Annoyed, he cast a wall of fire, and it erupted with a bright roar beneath the creature, but it didn't seem to have noticed it.

Aware again, he breathed a _thank you_ to his helper, and threw a telekinetic punch behind him. It knocked it back slightly.

A lesser monk heaved the door open, and was gone. Kalis went through with Mariel, and Marius shoved Akiro through before escaping himself.

_This is no good!_ It was going to come out, and it was going to slaughter Gonryun. He shouted the question, and was met with no answer. He'd been so busy running with his tail between his legs that he hadn't thought of the innocent people who lived in the town. And they _were all going to die._ He would die, his mother would die, Marius would die… _all_ of them would die! Gonryun would be destroyed, and there was nothing he could do.

He wrenched his hand angrily into the pouch at his side, and drew out a fistful of catalyst gemstones. He cast as many shields as he knew how. He wasn't about to not do anything. He'd rather wind up dead for doing _something_ rather than doing nothing at all.

Seven blue stones heated within his palm and shattered.

"Akiro, what are you-…?"

He didn't listen.

"_Vaya pro stillo iero né,_" he shouted at the doors, as he listened to the thrashing and breaking of shields. _You will not leave this place._

Something was working – he could feel magic flowing through his palms. He opened his fist, and the gems rose, glowing, and some shattered. He traced the rune of sealing over the air, and it took form.

He shouldn't have done this. No one had ever attempted a sealing like this without ritual implements. It would have been easy with a sacrifice – the energy released at someone's death is something very powerful indeed. But there wasn't time. He had to stop this, and he had stop to it now.

"_Iero puita._" _Total sealing. _The gemstones broke into glittering shards, and his staff burned painfully away into white ashes in his other hand."_Eno va shi stai._"

He felt the strain of the spell immediately. _Iero_ was not a word to be used to any human spell. The energy he was channelling was so raw and filled with power he felt as though rips were forming in his skin. He gritted his teeth and seared through the pain, and veiled the mountain with the sealing, forcing it down and gasping with pain. He had to focus it with his hands, one of which had been burnt badly by his staff. It shrieked at him, begging him to stop. It wasn't that simple; you can't leave a spell half-cast.

The cage of magic constricted and wrapped itself around the mountain, in forced, jagged movements. Nothing would break out from it. Everything was closed off from it. All the while, he struggled to keep his own life in him. His soul, so set on casting the seal, was trying to be part of it and leave his body as an empty shell.

With a last, gasping effort, he sealed it. He felt the sensation of having fallen a great distance and landed on something soft, and it was getting softer all the time. He collapsed into a heap, trying to heave air back into his lungs. He'd felt tired before, but this complete lack of energy… he felt so weak. The skin over his bones felt heavy; he could barely keep his eyes open.

_No, I'm not going to fall unconscious… this is…_

His thoughts slowed down. Someone was shouting to him, but it was as though the sound was coming through a very thick wad of cotton. Sleep dragged him down under as though it were drowning him. He fought to stay awake.

He had no strength to fight.

The world left him with a cold, black nothing.

-X-X-

Kyo's time in Comodo was drawing to a close; she didn't know how to tell her friends. She was sat with Kura who was pawing through one of the store cupboards in a strange frenzy that Kyo never thought she'd see in her companion.

Kura wasn't that much of a dancer; her movements were fluid, but she fell into a lot of the common mistakes that others did with the more difficult routines. She could do a dance, but she couldn't make it _her _dance, she said, like Tassy and Kyo could. However, she more than made up for it with her broad range of skills in musical instruments. It was required at Comodo School of Music and Dance to play at least one instrument, but a lot of people took two. Taiken had had to take four, as he was so appalling at archery that he needed to balance out his grades to get into the senior classes, and then later graduate. Kyo was good with tambourines and castanets and such, and played the flute. Kura played no fewer than eight instruments. She was the best percussionist in the school; she spent a lot of time challenging Leo to "guitar races", which she normally won (unless the key was a melodic minor, which she had decided, quite firmly, sounded horrible anyway); she was the school's only oboe player. On top of all that, she could play the harp, the violin, the cello, the flute and the viola (which some very arrogant people claimed didn't count as an eighth instrument as it wasn't held or played any differently from the violin. Kyo could feel the difference – the viola was huge compared to the violin.)

Consequently, this made for a fairly interesting list of identity cards. They weren't cards the students carried themselves, but they had to be kept "for official purposes." Kyo's was fairly average: _Kyo surname abandoned, no living relatives, Major – dance, Soprano, Flute, Handheld percussion._ Tassy claimed hers didn't have character: _Tassy Mirya, Major – dance, Soprano, Violin. _Taiken and Leo had decided that anyone who saw their cards would figure out how sexy they both were, or something… _Taiken Loris, Major – instrumental, Tenor, Guitar, Violin, Harp, Flute. Leo Aranko, Major – instrumental, Bass, Guitar, Violin, Percussion. _It was easy to spot Kura's from the list, for a very easy, self-evident reason. _Kura Soroka, Major – instrumental, Alto, Percussion, Guitar, Harp, Flute, Cello, Violin, Viola, Oboe. _Kura was generally accepted as one of the greatest instrumentalists the school had seen.

There'd been a lot of protest (mainly from the barons of the separate towns) about these cards including the students' surnames. Knowing someone's surname was a fairly intimate thing. The teachers had quickly claimed with slight exasperation that if a student couldn't trust their teacher, then they shouldn't be in the school. It was not socially acceptable to ask an acquaintance or stranger for their surname. It would probably draw a lot of blank, disgusted stares if it ever happened. It was a taboo not to be broken.

People were given the name their parents gave them, and their family's surname, and, although a lot of people didn't bother, a person could change it whenever they wanted. People with no living relatives tended to discard their names, as Kyo had done. Some people changed their birth name – Kyo knew Draco's had been Dariko. Chisel's had been Daemond, but he (somehow – not even Chisel himself knew how; he laughed and said it had just happened) had become known as Chisel. She didn't know what Hawk's birth name had been. Only two members of the God's Cry had surnames. Hawk, Oshi, and Kyo had no relatives, and Draco and Ruriko had been disowned by their family. So Kyo's full name was, in fact, Kyo. It made her sad.

"Are you sure you don't need to give up any instruments?" Kyo frequently sprung this question on Kura, out of earnest astonishment.

"I do fine. I'd give up an instrument if you gave up a dance." Kura frequently replied to the frequent question with this frequent answer, out of earnest astonishment. "Did you really learn how to fight?"

The Bard and Dancer caste had its own manual of martial arts. Kyo, aiming to be an "active" dancer (active dancer being the polite and slightly less stupid sounding term for fighting dancer) had indeed learnt it, but…

"I'm still not much of a fighter though," she sighed. "I have got to be the weakest member of the guild. I don't understand why I can't be a _strong_ fighter."

"Well, that stuff's all self-defence really, isn't it?" Kyo nodded, a little glumly. "Then it's supposed to be in case any dirty old men try and coax you into dark alleys to have their way with you."

"Don't they teach it to other castes though?" Kyo had only now just realized just how naive she was. Arie had been such an isolated place.

"Nope," replied Kura instantly. "It's mainly dancers they're concerned about with this defence stuff. A thief can kick and bite their way out of anyone's grip; a swordsmen has to know it anyway; a mage can… set people on fire; it's a sin to mess with an acolyte-…"

"Yes, but they're all just kids."

"… If you're a dirty old man, you aren't going to try and rape a knight, crusader, paladin… any of those – they'd smash your head into a wall. A gladiator would probably eat you. Sentinels wear those big black suits of armour, so you can't even tell if they're a man or a woman. Hazard control stays out of the way. Wizards would set you on fire, sages would set you on fire…" She counted with her fingers as she said this. "There are hardly any hermits nowadays, and they'd probably talk you to death. One of the stupidest things you could do is go after an assassin, or rogues or pirates or whatever. Tamers and rangers would just shout at a lot of wildlife to get you the hell off them and a necromancer would get some dead people to kill you…"

"We're sidetracking a bit here, aren't we?" Kyo said, smirking.

"… Um… the point with bards and dancers, those of the feminine pursuit mainly, is that people just assume that we're either harlot-types or we don't know how to fight someone off. See?"

"What are we looking for again?" the other asked, still smirking but feeling a little scandalised now.

"Ah, yeah! Some C sharp and B flat bells."

"For a nice D Harmonic minor scale?" She wasn't in the lesson, but any musician knew the tone and a half rule with harmonic minors. After all, it was what made them harmonic.

Kyo put her elbow down to lean on as she said this, winced, and regretted it. The previous lunchtime (about half an hour ago it had been) she had come up with the concept of Table Olympics, affectionately named after the sports that took place in Prontera before they spoke commontongue (apart from the Table part.) It involved an ordinary table. The participant knelt on said table and leant over one side. Without touching the floor, they swung themselves underneath and got back onto the table by the other side. Kyo, having invented it, was quite good at it, but was severely crippled by her lack of height. She often got stuck with the majority of her body latched to the underside of the table, and her arms reaching quite desperately for the other side of it. Her arms, ankles, and stomach were littered with bruises.

Taiken and Leo had been surprisingly awesome at it – Taiken had managed to swing himself under the table and up again three times in a row before leaning over the side for a fourth time, and falling nonchalantly to the floor. "Ow. That hurt," he said blandly.

"You do know I'm leaving in a few days?" Kyo blurted out suddenly.

Kura lost the static restlessness of her search and sagged visibly.

"Yeah," she said with as little emotion as possible. The girls continued their search in sullen silence. Kyo fought for something to say, but she'd gone completely blank. She wanted to cry, but wasn't completely sure why.

-X-X-

Arne had never noticed before the sinking sullenness that came with being incapacitated. In his estimation, he was weak and useless, and theoretically, he should have known to flee earlier in the fight and failing that, he should have been able to fend off the creature when it attacked him.

He felt heavy the entire time, and he was constantly exhausted. If he stayed up too long, he would become dizzy and sick with fatigue, and he'd have to retire to bed. He was given a vial of a foul tasting potion everyday; the alchemist named Pious, who'd prescribed the mixture, told him that it would speed up his body's natural healing process and replenish the blood he'd lost.

His position wasn't exactly uncommon. Priests could close wounds, but there was often a problem with blood loss, and a lot of fighters were forced to take a rest period until they were fit again.

If it weren't for Tristan, he'd have lost track of time completely. He spent most of the days following the fight with the golden thief bug sleeping, _like an old man,_ he thought bitterly. Everyone around him suddenly seemed incredibly superior, and his feelings of inadequacy sank like a dank mist inside him. He felt grey shame prickle miserably into him every time he had to vacate and leave whoever he was with to go back to bed.

"You really shouldn't be up," Hester insisted gently, like a mother scolding a boisterous son. She was holding a cup of some bitter, herbal brew that was wafting a floral scent through the room that made him feel sleepy. Healing magically was difficult to master, and until acolytes were capable of it, they were taught herbal remedies.

Arne didn't reply. He knew he was being stubborn; but he'd rather stay stubborn, he decided, than become mentally weak and take to his bed like a sick child. He was required to be strong-minded.

And Hester didn't have anything else to say. She carefully placed the steaming herbal drink on his bedside table and withdrew bitterly from the room.

The Barons were not helping either; Arne saw them fleetingly, and he wished it was less. He steeled himself against their snide, subtle comments, and gave them the usual politely interested gaze he had learned as a boy. Before, he could merely brush them off as arrogant fools, and they remained arrogant; it was just they were now oppressively superior rather than arrogant. They were so deliberate and harsh with their words, but the situation seemed incredibly immature. The challenge wasn't discernable, and they were in no way "correct", or "right", or "superior", but they carried a smug I-told-you-so kind of air about them.

Tristan, evidently, had noticed it, and Arne could almost see the prince's teeth grinding and his eyes darken. The wizard's power of empathy was basic at best, but it was chilling the way Tristan's mood would become dangerously and coldly furious. _You're sure you're fine all up and about, wizard? _they would say. _I do worry about the High Wizards, _they would say. _Too bad we cannot appoint new guardians of Geffen,_ they would whisper audibly.

x-x-x

Culvert was really beginning to weigh heavily on Tristan's mind. He had talked to Hester about it. She had said the thing they had fought was a giant, golden thief bug, and could easily wipe out the fighters on the above levels, and cause serious damage to Prontera. He knew all of the above, apart from the thing being giant and golden. Arne worried him too. He painfully regretted letting the high wizard go down. Kenji had assured the prince that he himself was fine, and Hester also insisted that there was no lasting damage.

He knew he'd reached the decision long ago, but now he had the go ahead signal. He summoned Sebek, leader of the Sentinels guild. He was slightly miffed; he never thought he'd have to use them. They were a specialist group of knights, with strict discipline, phenomenal fighting skills and unwavering loyalty, carefully selected as babies and assembled into fighters under the orders of Tristan's father. They were more like a troop than a guild. They were something like bodyguards, but they had been trained from birth to be all… bodyguard-like. Tristan didn't understand all of it, and he didn't need to.

As soon as the cardinal Sentinel stepped into his presence, he immediately wished for an alternative, or at least about six or seven more inches to be added to his own height. Sebek stood as still as a gargoyle, in heavy black armour, and no individual features discernable. His frame was bulky like a mountain, and the design of the armour was sharp and littered in red and silver etching. He was something of a man-mountain. His boots went _rattle_ when he moved, and he gave a firm salute. There were two heavy thin swords in jet-black scabbards at his waist.

"You're definitely Sebek?" asked Tristan.

"Yes, your excellency." _Oh, by the void, his voice is deep too… _"You summoned me."

"Yes, but I can't see your face; for all I know, you could be an acolyte on stilts." Some of his confidence returned; he could speak his mind.

"I understand, my lord. Is my lord assembling the Sentinels?"

"Indeed I am. You have heard about the recent developments of the Culvert situation?"

"I believe so. We will proceed directly?"

"… I think so."

"Very good, my lord."

The walking black statue bowed and left, snapping sternly to the knights at the door that he would need provisions for fourteen people prepared immediately.

"Wo! I didn't mean right now!" Tristan called in surprise.

x-x-x

With Excel was a strange girl named Hyatt, who was actually interested in alchemy. The girl had to be really – she was most physically weak person Excel had ever encountered.

They were gathering ingredients for the alchemy store cupboard, which had been depleted into something gloopy and useless (by the hands of Excel.) Well, Excel was gathering ingredients – she had to take Hyatt with her because of the girl's frail health, which was in fact the reason why her parents made her study alchemy. It was not wise to leave Hyatt by herself.

The plains to the west of Prontera were a satisfactory landscape. The trees were darkening and their leaves were preparing to shiver into amber corpses. Porings ambled (well… bounced. But it was their version of ambling, since ambling is quite difficult when one lacks limbs) over the still grass with the urgency of a glass of water.

Hyatt was good at alchemy. She was a sickly girl with white skin, which contrasted nauseatingly with limp, wavy black hair. Her eyes were deep set, and dark like her hair, and had a pleasant warmth to them. She smiled vaguely just about all the time. Her alchemist's boots looked too big for her. She reached into her cart, fumbled carefully through a strange assortment of bottles, and drew out a half empty bottle of sharp-white liquid.

Hyatt's average day involved fainting a fair few times, no less than three naps, and the consumption of several stimulating potions, all home made of course. Such was the extreme frailty of her health.

"I would love to be able to find a way to give these a nice flavour," she said amiably. "But when you have something so much, you forget to taste it."

Excel nodded automatically, then frowned to herself. She was in the middle of dissecting a chonchon. The lining of large insect's stomach was a good catalyst. She stowed the slimy, tissue-like substance into a pouch tied crudely to her belt, sheathed her knife, and picked up her hammer.

Chisel said it was always a treat to see her wield her hammer, after he'd finished laughing. While Chisel was five foot eleven, Excel was just four foot nine, and not showing any signs of growing any taller. However, Excel's favourite weapon was a rather weighty hammer, taller than Chisel, and incredibly heavy. Excel could lift it easily; it slowed her down considerably, but she could swing it with strength. Consequently, she'd developed broad shoulders, and it was apparently quite a sight to see such a short, seemingly innocent girl, complete with braided blonde pigtails, charging angrily at her foe wielding a hammer most gladiators wouldn't even consider trying to lift.

Excel paused mid-step, her mind wondering impatiently what was wrong. It was about a second before she realized that the earth was shivering. It was unsettling.

She held her hammer over her shoulder and beadily scanned the landscape. Of course, there were other people around, mainly youngsters. A few seemed to have noticed that something was going on.

Suddenly, an archer pointed and made a loud exclamation of awe, waving his hand a little madly at the West Prontera gate. Excel saw the guards exchange sniggers at the child's reaction. Too focused on the guards, she had the impression of a black cloud blossoming into the bright plains. Blinking and swinging her attention to this new something, she found a troop of dark-armoured knights, all sharp edges and heaviness. Metal boots punished the earth with each of their steps. They moved in perfect sync. They looked like soulless shells, no people inside the armour, no faces to be seen, and the only recognisable characteristic of their walk was raw strength. They towered taller and taller as they drew nearer. Elegant red plumes furled from their helmets with the grace of the wind. There was definitely grace to their walk, but it was so full of power that such a delicate word may not have been appropriate.

There was a faint "Oh me, oh my," next to her, which Excel ignored, much to her regret later. She stared numbly at the new arrivals. She didn't bother counting them, but there were quite a few. They stripped the plains to silence with their indomitable presence. Excel's grip tightened around her hammer as she noticed the weapons peering from their sides. They passed her, making her heart speed up, without so much as acknowledging her presence… or anyone else's presence for that matter. They were all so… _calm._ They proceeded to their destination directly, ignoring the stillness that followed them.

They could only be the Sentinel's guild, which Excel knew very little about. She knew they were supposed to be quite scary (_They _so_ were not! _her mind spluttered a little indignantly. _They were so different from scary…_) and that they wore black armour. They carried no distinguishing features that identified them as people. They seemed more like puppets, though not so frail and will-less; more, they were given orders, which they saw through by themselves.

She suddenly remembered that she had a companion with her, and wheeled around to exclaim, "_Wow_!" and launch into a mad flurry of sentences filled with awe.

Hyatt was lying on the floor, unconscious. Excel gave an exasperated groan and started searching through the unhealthy girl's cart for an awakening or stimulating potion, or something, which would revive her… There were a surprisingly large number that fitted those categories, and they all seemed to be for different _types_ of fainting. Excel stacked the promising-looking bottles as neatly as she could, then gave the slightest sigh of relief when she found instructions, which were helpfully entitled _List of Vital Potions. Note: Vital. Very important._

_Um_… said Excel's imagination as she stared at the paper.

She eventually found words that fit the situation.

"I have never seen so many words on one piece of paper in my whole life," she murmured slowly.


	12. The Malice in the Dark

_The Malice in the Dark_

The nothingness was winding into form and colour. Akiro stood in its thick atmosphere, giving his fingers an experimental flex. He could stand up fine – he was no longer so weighed with exhaustion. His shoulders seemed to prickle the air above him.

While he felt perfectly fine, there was the sickening sense of frailty, as though he were rough and brittle around the edges, ready to be seized and snapped in the blink of an eye. He couldn't carry out his task…

He looked around him; his surroundings were callously indistinct. They were constantly changing, it seemed, for fear of being recognised. They shifted into a haze of ground with no terrain.

He realized suddenly that there was something in his hand. Holding it up, he saw it was a sphere of glass. It was surprisingly warm, as if it had been out in the sun for hours. It had an icy shine, and felt as fragile as he was. It was heavy though, and he wanted to get rid of it, but his fingers wouldn't lift themselves from its water-smooth surface. He couldn't let go.

He wheeled around, sensing something behind him. He could see it, but that was it – he couldn't see what it was or what it was doing. He pawed his belt for his Emergency Knife, and found nothing. The thing was equally surprised to see him though.

And angry. Roaring and indignant. It growled at him – a low, hellish quake that made his stomach turn. He took the glass sphere in both hands, hoping it would bring some comfort.

_That! _it screamed. Akiro recoiled. _Why! They need to suffer! Everything needs to! Let me end everything!_

"This is important," the sage tried. "Where is this place?"

_Give me that spell._

"No," he somehow said. _Did I just say that?_

_I want that spell. Give me the spell or I'll tear you into shreds._

The thing was swelling with anger. It towered red and hateful over him. He remained silent.

_GIVE IT NOW!_

It sprinted at him… well, nothing so human. Akiro shouted out in alarm and sidestepped awkwardly.

_GIVE ME THE SPELL!_

Something sharp and definitely capable of causing a lot of pain swung over him, burning the air in front of his chest. It did burn – it left wintry blue flames that screamed with relish and then fell.

A light switched on in Akiro's head: Give me the _spell_. The sphere… was the sealing he had cast. A lot of people would die if he let it go. And this thing… it wanted everything to suffer.

He leapt back, trying to make out some kind of outline, and found none. How could anything be so… angry? He was thinking about asking when he noticed it was doing something very similar to shaking. In the same way that an agitated person will hunch their shoulders, grit their teeth and clench their fists.

_WHY! _it screamed in a voice ragged with fury as it sprung at him again, trying to slice and kill, and destroy the sealing.

Akiro spun around and fled, his feet pounding into unrecognisable ground. His mind a blur of nothing, protesting, "I don't understand!" He'd run forever. He had to. He'd led himself into a bleak, cursed life of fleeing for eternity. His legs were numb and constantly moving, and the pained, bloodthirsty shrieks of _why_ rang behind him.

Trapped in the plain of nothingness, he was alone.

x-x-x

"This is a bit of a parlous situation."

Marius frowned at the understatement, and turned to the speaker, the Champion named Jasper. He was a strange individual with a broad frame that was too big for his head. His hair was thin and black. His neck was long and stalk-like, and with a heavy monks robe draped roughly over a stocky build, he almost gave the impression of a huge oak tree trunk with only one spindly branch. His eyes were deep-set and looked hollow, and were almost totally colourless. While his face was small and negligible, his nose certainly reflected the prominence of the rest of him.

"I would call "parlous" quite a mild adjective here," replied the cardinal of the Sage guild, somewhat faintly. Orius, regarding Akiro as a mixture of a friend and a son or favourite nephew, was naturally obligated to visit the boy in his dwindling health. "Was there anything left of Akiro's staff at all when it burnt away?"

"Only this," said Marius, handing the sage the small, black stone. He didn't know much about it, as even in his years as an acolyte, he had never used a staff or wand, or anything that channelled magic through a crystal. "What would your diagnosis of it be?"

Orius turned the crystal over in his hand a few times, and murmured back, "Completely dead."

"That's bad though, isn't it?" mused Jasper with a frown.

"True. But if the crystal had shattered, then we'd really be in trouble." Orius sighed heavily. Lines of age crinkled around his eyes. "I suppose you are familiar with how these work?" he asked. Marius shook his head. "Well, let me explain.

"One of the jobs of the blacksmith guild is to make crystals for mage's staffs. Crystals channel energy in a similar way to the catalyst gemstones, but the gemstones are not really fit to be called catalysts – sacrificial would perhaps be a better term for them. Crystals can channel nearly every kind of magical energy without suffering the deteriorative qualities. Before their discovery, mages and acolytes generally didn't live past thirty years of age. There is still a certain amount channelled through the caster, so it is still true that magic users die younger.

"When you enhance constalites, you get spirit spheres. When you degenerate them, they revert into crystals. While Gonryun is kept floating by the blessing of the Twin Shrine Maidens, Yuno owes its enchantment to a giant crystal, known as the Heart of Ymir. Crystals, like spirit spheres, have individuality, and grow with their user. Fieri's staff is mounted with a crystal of great destructive magnitude; that disc around the top is actually there to stop her from blowing herself up. My own has four crystals, not only to suit the compatibility with all four basic elements, but it allows me to create a casting circle over a greater area. Akiro's is quite unusual – for one thing, he made the crystal himself, when he was fourteen, I might add, which is one of the reasons why I was more than glad to promote him to a Professor once he graduated. It's quite difficult to do. It's Whitesmith technology, and very few High Wizards or Professors can do it. This crystal was designed for quick casting. One attribute about it that makes it so suitable for this is that it channels energy all the time. So Akiro would be using some of his magic to keep it alight all the time."

"And now it's totally dead," said Marius.

"Exactly. That means the sealing was successful. Akiro, however, is completely exhausted."

"I guess there must be a slight reversal of roles here; he's now using his magic to channel the barrier. He won't be able to cast much for quite a while. And since the sealing was successful, he has complete control of it – he could lift it any time he chooses."

"Which we know he isn't going to do. But we have to watch out… Since Akiro is the channel for this, should he die, the spell will die with him."

"Do we tell the barons about this?"

It was a question that had been dwindling in everyone's minds, but Marius was the first to utter it aloud.

He was, of course, met with silence. A little miffed by his own lack of words to match the question, he tried to ask a different one. "Is it really necessary to hide this?"

"The barons can spin just about anything into a plot to betray the Treaty of the First King," replied Orius, somewhat sternly.

"Including hiding things that need attention," retorted Jasper, equally sternly. "If we conceal this, and they discover it, then we will suffer for it."

Orius sighed. "I know. I'm concerned about placing the remaining High Wizards in further displeasure."

"So, one of us goes to Prontera to inform Prince Tristan, whether the barons are there to hear it or not. If they are not there, then the Prince will disclose the information in whatever manner he sees fit; he is quite deceptively wise. If they are there, then they should know to trust the word of the Champions."

"Most of us know that, but you know how much they disapprove of the Orders that came about during or after the _Guerre te Muladi._" (The war of the different nations of Midgard, which ended with the Treaty of the First King. One condition of the treaty was that Prontera would control the other towns through peaceful means, and that common-tongue would be spoken by everyone.) "Aravis of the dancer's guild is having a particularly hard time of it."

"I don't understand why they hold the High Wizards in such contempt," mused Marius.

"You would say that, what with one of them being your own daughter."

"It isn't just that. The wizard's guild is one of the oldest and most revered orders."

"It's just the idea of guild masters taking charge of castes that they don't like."

x-x-x

There was black. A warm, black nothing. It was warm, but there really was absolutely nothing. No energy, no knowledge, no feeling. Nothing. Very nothing.

_Why, why, why…_

Sometime, warmth had crept in, but when was undecided. It could have taken years, or it could have taken only a few seconds. Trying madly to shake haziness away, a question formed, and eventually struggled into comprehendible words.

"Where am I?"

The words sounded faint, and not quite there. It sounded as if they were coming from a great distance. He couldn't still be sprinting across the plateau that didn't want to be seen…?

_Gonryun._

Whoa. That had to be an answer. _Oh, wait, I've got my eyes closed._

Remedying this setback was a surprising strain, but light flooded into the world, and it was no longer nothing. There was a myriad of blurry blotches, which eventually crept into a strange shape as eyes focused with a noticeable ache.

"Are you awake?" something asked.

The words translated themselves, and were considered carefully before replying. "I think."

"What do you remember?"

Again, careful consideration. "Nothing." The voice that gasped out the answers was still faint. There was no power behind it whatsoever. Frown.

"Right." The something took a deep breath. "You are in the sanctuary in Gonryun. You are here because you cast a near-fatal sealing. Your name is Akiro. You are eighteen years old. You are a Professor from the Sage guild. You live in Yuno. Anything else you'd like to know? How do you feel?"

Akiro considered this information, and his own memories started to throb, the shadowy thing lurking somewhere close by. His eyelids were sliding shut of their own accord, and the feeling of physical presence he had was beginning to dwindle again. His life started to slowly trickle back into his mind. _Feel?_ One word leaped out like wildfire. "Tired."

"As we expected. Is there any other question you need answering?"

"How long have I been like this?"

"Four days."

Akiro felt a reaction to this. It felt like surprise, but his voice wouldn't make the exclamation he wanted it to.

He settled instead for a feeble, "That's quite a long time."

Before he knew what had happened, he was basking in the warm nothing once again. The shrieks were becoming audible again… _No… keep away…_

-X-X-

"How would you go about saying goodbye to someone?"

The question took Hawk by surprise. Kyo immediately blushed and diverted her eyes. He blinked a few times, then mentally picked himself up.

"How exactly do you mean?" he asked.

They had finished archery lessons, and he missed them. A few days ago, however, Taiken had kicked a gloomy Hawk in the shins, and told him to ask Kyo if she wanted to have lunch with him.

"She asked you to the festival; I think you should return the favour."

Taiken then made it an official order, and, punching him around the head as he passed, Hawk went off to find Kyo.

She accepted without a second thought (and even a slight blush, which he pinned as wishful thinking, which he pinned further as his imagination) and had consented to go with him again the next day, and the day after that, until it became a nice routine.

However, leaving her with a kiss on the cheek was something he only seemed to be able to do when he was "suitably intoxicated."

_Oh, wait. Hawk, you idiot. _"You don't know how to say goodbye to your friends?"

She nodded. "I know I have to," she murmured slowly. "But… it hurts. I'll miss them."

"Leaving is quite inevitable. I think you'd regret it more if you avoided it and said nothing. And… I can't answer this question for you. You already know the answer." A little miffed at the solemn tone of their conversation, he smiled teasingly and added, "Dopey."

That made her smile back.

"There's something else troubling you, isn't there," he half-asked, half-stated.

She shook her head. He always knew she'd been a bad liar.

x-x-x

Now blanketed in night, the world took its gruesome form. Huddled in a blanket and clammy with cold sweat, Kyo wished she had answered the hunter's question properly. One issue was that she didn't want to go crying to Hawk with _every_ little problem she had, particularly the ones he couldn't solve. Another was that she didn't know _exactly_ what was wrong.

Her hands were wrapped defiantly around the sucsamad knife, though when the time came, it would give little protection. Her skin burned and made a sickening contrast with the cold air. She couldn't stop shaking. Her breathing was slow and shallow. She wouldn't sleep. She would spend another restless night huddling her useless weapon in fear.

It was beginning to happen more and more often. This would be the second night in a row. Only when she was alone, in the darkness. With the night, there came something… _evil_, and she sensed it. That made her afraid. But what made her quake was that _it_ could sense her.

She felt the same dread that wrung her mind frail and dry before Arie was destroyed.

She didn't know what it was. There was some… life, with indomitable anger, and she felt drawn to it. Not in any particular direction. She would never be complete until she found it, but when she found it, she would die a horrible, painful death by its rage.

The anger, though not her own, made her head spin. A knot formed in her throat and stung, and her bones ached. She was young, and frail as a twig. Anger did not cloud _its_ mind; with its mad, lustful determination, it knew how best to cause agony. It knew torture, it knew hate… and with a black roar promised the destruction of Midgard.

She felt it, and she felt the dank nothingness that would come of it. It stung her as it swept over her skin in coarse waves of fury. She threw the duvet over her head, tears streamed from her eyes, and she wished for protection. She heard Tassy stir in her sleep, but it soon became apparent that Kyo was the only one who knew what was in store. She was alone.

x-x-x

"Will you two hurry up? They're loading the cargo onto the boat as we speak."

Hawk didn't bother looking into the girls' room. There were a lot of mad scrabblings coming from it, and he was pretty sure he shouldn't see what was on the other side.

"I'd be ready in no time if I could just find my blue dress," Tassy whined. "Kyo, you've been tidying again, haven't you."

"It was under my _pillow_, Tassy, a place where _your_ clothes shouldn't be if they can possibly help it."

"I would've known where it was!"

Kyo didn't reply to this. Taiken joined Hawk in slumping exasperatedly against the wall, slapping his palm across his forehead.

"Is nothing safe from your tidying?" Tassy raged on.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a compulsive neat freak!"

"You drive me to insanity!"

"Before this little shouting continues," Taiken interjected loudly from his slumped position, "May I recommend you check your wardrobe, Tassy."

There was a slightly stunned pause, and the sound of Tassy pulling a dress from her wardrobe. A second later, the dancer peered around the doorway at the men, with a blank, bewildered expression sewn onto her face.

"… Thanks, Taiken," she mumbled, then going back into the room and closing the door behind her.

Taiken sighed and settled back into the slump, while Hawk silently marvelled at the bard's ability with… diplomacy. The girls edged back into conversation, and from what Hawk gathered from Alder, they seemed to be making up.

"Kyo's been looking quite upset recently," Taiken whispered. "Has she said anything to you?"

"There is something bugging her," Hawk admitted. "She won't say anything about it. Should I insist on finding out, or leave her be?"

"You know what she's like better than I do, so I say press the matter. Gently thou-… what's wrong?"

Taiken had been silenced by some sort of strange fit from Hawk. The hunter shuddered and clapped a hand over one side of his throat. There'd been a soothing effect in the pit of his stomach, and a tingling sensation over his neck.

"I…" He was about to add "don't know", before Alder informed him that it was only Kyo. The falcon was perched on the girl's arm in her room while she ran a hand over the bird's neck. It was a nice feeling, and Alder wanted to share. "… It's nothing," he said stiffly, as it was, of course, a bit of a lie.

It was a nice feeling, if incredibly creepy. A soft hand coursing silkily over his skin, despite said hand being at least ten feet away. But it felt so much nearer… as if she were right next to him. It was a very nice feeling, soothing and gentle… he closed his eyes with a relaxing sigh. He even allowed himself to smile.

"Hawk, what-…?"

"Hush a minute."

Taiken made a question noise, but kept quiet as requested. It was peaceful, pleasant, silent… The hunter quite forgot where he was. He didn't need to worry, as long as there was this kind, sweet presence near him. It felt as though he were vanishing in tingling waves of happiness where he stood…

Alder took off through the open window, leaving Hawk with a vague, sloshy feeling that made him sway serenely on the spot.

"Are you feeling alright?" Taiken asked with traces of either astonishment or impatience.

Hawk looked mildly at his companion, suddenly in very pleasant humour. "I'm absolutely fine."

"You worry me sometimes – it's like you're still at that awkward age."

The hunter blinked once or twice, then laughed. "What is this dreaded awkward age?"

"You know… before you're properly an adult. But then I wouldn't know, would I."

"I turned eighteen on Midsummer." There was a pause. "Is something wrong?"

"I just wasn't expecting you to tell me that," Taiken replied uneasily.

Kyo and Tassy emerged quietly from their room, Kyo with her sparse belongings slung in a bag over her shoulder, Tassy in a long light blue dress. They avoided looking at each other, but Tassy quickly clasped Kyo's hand affectionately as they made their way out of the school. Hawk regarded the Arien girl curiously, wondering whether she could possibly know about the tender exchange that Alder had passed onto him. He realized with slight embarrassment that he'd enjoyed it, and it occurred to him that the remedy to his sorrow was something as unlikely as a dancer from Arie of all places.

_But she isn't exactly ordinary, is she…_

It felt too much like a weakness.

He had to mask whatever he felt about the situation, however, as the seniors and instructors had gathered in a solemn, chatty crowd to see Kyo and Taiken off. There were a lot of hugs and whined good byes from bards and dancers Hawk barely knew. There were also a few jokes about broken hearts thrown in the general direction of Taiken, along with some "happy birthdays" for the following week. Hawk wasn't paying attention though. He was still rather miffed about this new feeling of frailty, and it made him angry. The frustration confused Alder immensely, and it in turn made the hunter even more confused.

The noisy rabble traversed across the town in bitter recline and over-exuberant talk. Kyo had clumps of people latched affectionately to each arm. Draco, Ruriko and Chisel were a little astonished.

When they got there, boarding the boat was an incredibly lengthy process; Oshi radiated waves of disapproval from the gangplank. Hawk quickly paid his respects to Aravis, and was met with a hug. He boarded the boat with as little fuss as possible, the sound of good-byes and farewell pecks ringing chaotically behind him.

He rested his arms on the side of the boat, and sighed weightily; he wasn't sure why. He was further surprised when Oshi came and stood next to him. The assassin didn't even cloak his movements. Alder swooped down and landed on Hawk's shoulder, a bronze eye fixed boldly on Oshi's face.

"Did you like it here then?" he asked at some length.

The hunter frowned lightly. "I think I probably did."

"Kyo seems to have liked it a lot. The people here are excessively nice," Oshi allowed carefully. He paused, checking Hawk's reaction. "Why are you so hesitant?"

That was confusing. "What do you mean?"

"You and Kyo," the assassin replied instantly. "It's so obvious you want each other; why don't you just tell her and let it be over with?"

Hawk's mind became a huge blank. _Obvious? What…?_ He quailed under the accusing stare of his companion.

"It isn't difficult, is it?"

No answer.

"You don't understand any of it, do you?"

No answer. Hawk was beginning to feel immensely embarrassed. "No. Who put you up to this?"

"Taiken, but he did it by accident."

"… What? Nothing Taiken does is by accident." _And I'm going to murder him._

Oshi gave a loud cough and a dry snigger. "Well, I think you'll find that that isn't the case. I say "by accident", because he's actually quite anxious for the pair of you at the moment. I suppose his anxiety was transferred onto me. Taiken cares about all of us a lot more than you think."

"Does he now."

"You must have a very thick head, Hawk," he carried on with acidic sternness, "to be able to regard Kyo with such indifference to her feelings. It's rude and insensitive to try and deny what you realize."

"How is it rude and insensitive? And besides, I don't even know what to think of her, or us as a couple if that is what you're implying; has it not occurred to you that maybe this is quite a big thing for me? I would've thought you of all people would understand."

""If that is what you're implying"… by the void, Hawk."

Hawk kept his eyes on the ocean. It looked white under the weeping clouds. Anger was welling up in his chest, and even more so because Alder was actually taking Oshi's side. The falcon actually went so far as to transfer himself onto Oshi's shoulder. That made Hawk feel nice and betrayed.

"You just don't understand it, do you." The assassin received the bird bemusedly. He turned and faced his companion, who kept his gaze determinedly on the ocean. Cold, grey eyes bored icily into the side of his head. "Kyo _needs_ you. You know what that word means, don't you? You don't need for me to explain why, do you?"

Hawk snorted. "Needs," he repeated incredulously.

"Yes, Hawky-poo, _needs_." Hawk whirled around. It seemed everything about the assassin's manner was designed to get on his nerves. "OK, so Taiken put me up to _that_, but that's beside the point, OK? …Now, Kyo witnesses the destruction of Arie, is the only one who survives, and loses everything, deducing that she might have prevented it. Her mother and everyone she has known are dead. With her isolated little village gone, she has to face the rest of the world alone. But what is this? Lo and behold, a mysterious rescuer appearing from nowhere. He is kind, and looks after her, even lets her into his guild, where she is properly taken care of and even schooled."

"I've… never looked at it that way," the hunter replied stiffly. He felt his irritation subside slightly, looking back on the events that led to his meeting with Kyo. He'd threatened to kill her… after what she'd been through.

"Yes, I noticed."

It appeared Oshi had nothing more to say on the matter. He sat down cross-legged against the wall at the edge of the ship. Hawk felt a twinge of hurt when Alder nipped the man affectionately on the ear before returning to his partner. Oshi looked curiously at the bird.

"Does it always do that?" he asked, every inch his normal self again.

"He only does it to people he likes; his way of being affectionate," Hawk replied, a little bitterly.

Oshi gave one of his dry sniggers. "I remember you said once that the bird was exactly like you."

"I was wrong," Hawk grumbled, giving Alder a stern look; he was still feeling vast amounts of reproach towards the falcon, and was trying to block out his attempts at condoling.

"I don't think you were actually."

Hawk tried to ignore the last comment. He evidently failed, as he stared at Alder in a mixture of censure and curiosity. Draco's voice tore through their silence.

"You two are so grumpy," she said affectionately. Ruriko was latched onto her right arm, bobbing lightly. Chisel trailed his cart.

"Well, it'll be nice and quiet this time around," the blacksmith sighed happily, letting himself sink into a sitting position. For the journey home, they were travelling on a merchant's ship that was carrying barrels of mastela wine and, strangely enough, a lot of shells – no one had any idea why. They were, however, expected to help around on the ship as payment. Ruriko was to conjure a wind and quieten any storms, which she was extremely miffed by; she heartily disapproved of large-scale weather magic.

"You are aware, Ruriko, that we probably owe our lives to large-scale weather spells?" Draco had sighed exasperatedly.

"No."

"I think you'll find that those rainstorms in Morroc that came once a month were actually the work of weather wizards – the Morroc monsoon season stopped coming quite some decades ago. Everyone would die of thirst, had it not been for the weather wizards."

The girl was satisfied with the answer, though ever resentful at being proven wrong.

The others were to be part of the crew, apart from Taiken and Kyo. Although it wasn't said aloud, it was accepted that they were just too puny for the work. The way the captain worded it was "not quite strong enough." He did, however, ask that he should see Kyo dance, and hear Taiken play.

Taiken and Kyo were striding into view, Taiken with a sullen smile and Kyo looking quite put out. Her wrists were quite covered in various new bracelets, all hand-made, no doubt by the seniors. She was also carrying a sheet of paper, which, from what Hawk could make out, was covered in doodles and little messages. He also noted that her bag of belongings was considerably fuller than it was when she had left her room. With the pair was the captain, a man by the name of Irvine, who brought a whole new meaning to word stocky.

"Are we casting off then?" he asked, rubbing his dish-like hands together. Taiken answered yes. "Right, if I could have the two gentlemen here below deck getting the anchor," he said, indicating to Chisel and Hawk, "and could the madam and the young sir be spreading the sails. Any time you're ready with your spell, lovey."

They were dispatched to their various positions, and soon meeting with the rest of the crew. It was dark, despite the bright white day outside. There was a heavy, masculine smell of meat and sweat. Chisel seemed to win the other men's approval instantly. They regarded Hawk dubiously, as he kept silent and had a slightly menacing looking bird perched on his forearm.

The order to cast off rang stoutly through the ship, and Hawk followed everyone else in wheeling the anchor in, which took a lot of heaving at a weighty wheel-like device that wrapped a heavy cord around it as it went. He quickly realized why Taiken and Kyo had been labelled not fit for the work.

There was a heavy, buffeting sound from above, and the sails were spread. A magical wind edged into existence outside, and the ship was speeding along the waves. Meanwhile, the musicians in the harbour called their final farewells, wishing good luck and making clear how fond they were of their friend.

Having been berated by Oshi, Hawk was in a sulky mood, and was not inclined to look forward to the next few days.

-X-X-

"Lies!"

Arne slapped his forehead, which made the barons wheel around.

"I don't see what this has to do with you, wizard. You certainly have some nerve," snapped Braxin haughtily.

"I think I should be the one saying that, since you are somehow able to turn a blind eye to a turn of events which could well lead to the destruction of Gonryun island," Arne replied.

"_If_ such events have taken place."

Arne narrowed his eyes, and the baron quailed beneath the icy glare.

"Akiro is hovering somewhere between life and death, the old court is sealed, twelve monks are dead and one of the champions is out of action, and you still manage to spin this into some sort conspiracy?" said Orius. His tone was even, but there was something of anger creeping into his manner.

"Before we continue in our validating of the word of a Champion of Gonryun, one who has sworn himself to never lie, might we try and find some sort of connection between this and the other issues laid at our door? This is an argument of great intellectual capacity, I'm sure," Tristan interjected sardonically.

"I hear you had a visit from Ruriko and her sister," offered Orius, "did she mention the creature called "Phreeoni"?"

"They did mention something about "their own little crisis", but they didn't mention that thing specifically."

"They're not worth listening to," grumbled Meron. "Technically, I think you'll find they are a criminal guild."

"Well, damn, it would appear that I have enlisted their help," the prince replied blandly.

"That woman is supposed to have been a member of the assassin's guild; she and the girl were banished from their family. One of them is the son of a necromancer. They've recently recruited a survivor of the destruction of Arie, and her mother was a dark priestess."

"They are respectable people."

"That is what people say. They say the sage is an intelligent girl."

The barons sniggered. Arne felt his anger beginning to stir. "She looked pretty idiotic to me. Rude and stupid."

"I heard she was a reputed beauty. Horrible, skinny freckled little thing."

"Are you done?" interrupted Arne darkly.

"Strangely enough, I think you'll find there are very few people who won't question the accuracy of that description," Orius commented dryly. "Having been her teacher, I can tell she is intelligent, and neither I nor her sister ever raised her to be rude."

"We're stirring a little off-subject here, aren't we. I'm dismissing you, barons," grumbled Tristan, who was now slumped in his throne. They filed out of the room, carrying dark mutterings about the "insolent prince."

"Arrogant buggers," Arne hissed.

"Now, now, Arne," Tristan soothed from above. "One day, they will see the light."

"I realize that, your majesty, my only problem is that that day isn't now."

"Well, anymore comments about Ruriko and I think I'll have to kill them," murmured Orius.

"Yes, and I'll help you."

"A pretty thought, but right now, we need a messenger. Marius, would you be so kind as to go to the northern forest around Umbala, and find Sinensis, the ranger, and ask him to send a note to the God's Cry informing them of these recent developments? No doubt they will make more sense of it than we have. If they have stayed true to their schedule, then they should be sailing for Aldebaran now."

-X-X-

The majority of the crusader guild were now stationed around the ruined Geffen. Shigeru had split them into four regiments, each defending one of the city's four gates. Shigeru himself guarded the east gate. He kept with him his good friend and second-in-command, Khan Peregrinus, a boisterous young man with boundless cheer. He came from a family of hunters, dwelling in the Payonese Mountains. Shigeru and his childhood friend Kenji were beginning their training as swordsmen, and were immensely surprised to find Khan begging to join them. Shigeru had been the lad's mentor ever since.

Khan was in the process of searching for survivors in Geffen. Gruesome work, true, but he'd rather get it over with quickly and be tending to any living swiftly. So far, the signs were not promising. He reported his findings back to Shigeru, camped at the eastern gate, who then ordered him to put together a list of the deceased. Again, not a particularly cheering task, as some of the bodies were so mutilated that there weren't any distinguishing characteristics.

"Well, let's at least be thankful for the survivors in the chapel," Khan said brightly.

Shigeru laughed. "If you weren't so optimistic, I don't know what I'd do."

"It isn't really optimism," Khan mused. He didn't fully understand his nature, but he wouldn't call it optimistic. "If something's going to be as mind-boggling as say… this," he said, gesturing to the ruined streets beyond the crumbling wall, "then don't bother trying to figure it out; just get on with your business."

"Ah… so just shut off your sensitivity when things get tough." The paladin shrugged. "Well, it at least helps my mood."

Khan saluted and dismissed himself. He set off back into the city with his squad – a group he had known since he first became a swordsman.

The sun was setting, but within Geffen, it already looked to be nightfall. The sight was disgusting. Paves were dislodged and cracked beneath their feet. Houses had been smashed and their rubble lay across the streets. The walls were streaked black with burns, then with red smears of dried blood, like some gruesome graffiti. Geffen Tower loomed untouched overhead.

They patrolled the city not only for bodies, dead or alive, but also for any remaining monsters.

"You are aware that at some point we have to clear out Geffen Tower?" Runa asked quietly.

Khan turned to face her, as did the others. "Yes," he allowed mildly, "but we're just waiting for the go-ahead from Shigeru."

"We could really do with someone who actually knew the people who lived here," sighed Malathos with disgust. He was knelt over the body of a woman. Her stomach had been clawed open. Her neck had been bashed horizontal from her shoulders, and one side of her face was splattered completely in blood. Her mouth and eyes were widened in horror. Her arm was bent into a very inhuman-looking angle.

Khan let out a loud exclamation. "Look at the uniform; that's one of the High Wizards!"

The other three leaned over, and, as if on cue, gasped collectively.

There was a dead pause. Khan thought hard about the descriptions he'd heard of the High Wizards. "Well, it isn't Ivas," he offered.

"Does anyone else ever feel a bit cruel sending these… disgusting bodies back to the distraught refugees to be identified?" Runa wondered aloud.

"Yes."

"… Well, let's get her back to camp."

"What happened to the Whitesmith guild? I don't remember hearing them mentioned in all of this."

"Most of them were in Prontera at the time anyway; the ones who remained here were killed. We'll have to be getting their bodies as well. We're looking for Konstantine, Miré and Sophia. They were all fairly young."

The dead were being piled onto some carts ready to be taken back to Prontera, where they would be identified and buried honourably. The death toll mounted dramatically.

Khan sighed, and beckoned for his friends to follow him back into the city. They did so, Runa hurrying forward to check his mood.

"You don't have to put on a strong front all the time," she assured him gently.

"I don't," he replied. "This is just a lot harder than I thought it would be."

"You're doing well."

He nodded grimly, half-understanding the words. The sun sank lower in the sky, and Geffen darkened. Runa surprised everyone by lighting the rosary around her neck with a mage's spell of sight.

"A sage called Ruriko taught me," she explained with a shrug. She strode to the head of the group, casting an amber light around the place. She brought them to a halt at a crossroads, and held the pendant in front of her and scanned the area with narrowed eyes. The light stayed over one place for a while as she inspected it. She drew her sword at one point and readied herself for an attack.

"What is it-?" Yashiro began, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand. Khan readied his lance and cast an anxious eye over to where the red light threw shadows haphazardly over the rubble. He saw nothing. But he could hear something…

"Runa-…" he tried to say; he hated the feeling creeping up the back of his neck, when you could hear something dangerous but you couldn't see it.

"This way," she said, indicating. "It doesn't seem to be dangerous."

It wasn't; they found what they'd been looking for very quickly. A little bundle of clothes. The figure inside the clothes was a little indistinct; whoever they were, they were hunched over and crying. _A survivor?_ Khan decided it must have been a miracle.

"Are you OK?" he called, running forward. The others caught up, healing chants at the ready. "Who are you? How did you survive?"

It was a boy, and Khan noted from the attire that he was a swordsman. The child didn't show his face, but kept his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't respond to crusaders; he didn't even acknowledge their presence.

"Come with us," Runa urged in her gentle voice. "You'll be safe soon. We shouldn't stay here too long."

Khan watched the swordsman for some sort of reaction.

Nothing. No answer.

"Can you hear us?" the paladin asked uncertainly.

No answer.

Khan listened, and soon found words in the boy's sobs.

_Why…_

He drew back slightly; something was very wrong. Of course, they'd left no survivors; this boy couldn't be…

A gloved hand seized him around the head, so quickly that it didn't look like anything had moved at all. The other four drew their weapons ready; Khan could feel their frowns. His attention was wrenched away from them, as a voice rasped in his head: _I hear you. Where are they?_

"They…?"

Khan panicked as his vision blackened. _What's going on…?_ An image sprang to life in his mind; the first was a young man. He must have been a sage. His face was stricken, and blood was creeping down his forehead. His expression hardened, and he yelled, "_Vaya pro stillo iero né!_" Khan didn't understand the words. He didn't need to though, as the image changed. He didn't notice the change; one moment, he saw the sage, then he was looking at a girl dressed in dancer-like outfit, though that of a kind he hadn't seen before. She was very pretty, whoever she was. She turned and fled.

_WHERE!_ the voice demanded again.

"I… don't know," Khan replied, shocked again to realize that there was the boy invading his thoughts. His vision returned groggily, as if he had just woken from a very long sleep. He stared at the swordsman.

Something was wrong.

This boy wasn't human.

"What… are you?"

The swordsman brought his head up and stared at him. His eyes were full of hate. If ever malice took form, it was then, in the boy's chaotic, red eyes.

Khan re-gathered his thoughts, mustering all his ferocity. He grabbed the lance forgotten on the ruined street. This boy was not human.


	13. Reading the Air

_Reading the Air_

Khan clenched his lance where it lay by his left ankle. It quickly struck him how useless the weapon was at this range. But something was creeping into the corner of his mind…

He recognised the solid presence of Malathos. This was the spell of Devotion, which meant that Malathos was now connected with all his companions. The focus required rendered him slightly incapacitated, but any attacks against those he was connected to were transferred onto him. It was a very useful spell, and to Khan it was a great source of comfort.

Tensing the muscles in his right arm and gritting his teeth, he threw his fist into the swordsman's stomach. The boy doubled over, then twitched as a change rippled over him. Before another attack could be made, he leapt back. Very quickly.

"What are you?" Khan repeated. He wished his voice could be fiercer, but an uneasiness had come over him. There was something not right about that… _change_…

The boy gave him a calculating glare. He tilted his head lightly, as if considering whether or not to answer the question. _There is definitely something different about him…_The crusaders ran into formation, Marissa and Yashiro either side of Khan, and Malathos and Runa hanging back.

Silence.

"_I, myself… I don't know, and I wish I didn't care_," was the first answer, spoken in a cold, enormous growl. "_They called this one Doppelganger_," was the second; the growl hung in the deep pits of the words, but the voice sounded like thousands of people speaking at once, all whispering frantically like chaotic thoughts. Doppelganger drew a broadsword from his side.

Khan puzzled over the answer, beginning to wish he hadn't asked the question. _Who are "they"?_ was just one mystery that sprung from the seemingly earnest answers. Then he puzzled over his own fear of the first voice – there was a lot more to the speaker than the terrible growl…

Marissa had sprinted forward. She swung her heavy hammer-like halberd in a full horizontal sweep. Doppelganger stepped beneath it with ease. The crusader brought her impressive weapon back around over her head, and, letting it follow gravity's call, smashed it down into the ground, causing a small explosion of rubble. Doppelganger strafed around the blade, but felt the shock of the hit and backed away again.

Yashiro dove in for his own assault. Marissa was chanting a lancer's spell of agility as he ran past, sword poised in his right hand. The strike should have cleaved his foe diagonally from the waist to the shoulder. The blade met empty air.

Runa gasped suddenly and hurried closer to Malathos. Khan understood why. He felt himself flinch as something in the air changed. He abruptly became aware that there were, in fact, a lot of monsters on Midgard, and they wanted nothing better than to kill him. There were a lot of shadows around. Assassins could go completely invisible in the shadows… he wouldn't see them at all… they'd move silently, then they'd be at his throat with their daggers. And then… _slice!_ He'd be dead. Doppelganger… _why can't I attack him?_

_He looks so human…_

_But he's so not…_

_I'm being ridiculous…_

… _What's going on?_

Doppelganger attacked now. Angrily. He shrieked and threw all his weight into his shoulder. Yashiro tried to move, but the attack caught him below the chest plate of his armour. Surprised, he fell with a metallic thud onto his back. Doppelganger wasted no time in raising his sword.

"Attack…" Khan commanded himself. He didn't move.

A Holy Light spell from Runa exploded in front of the swordsman's face. He flinched; black blood poured quickly from the new wound on his forehead like dense ink. He didn't halt his attack.

The Holy Light had given Yashiro the time to enchant his shield. Doppelganger brought his sword down, and the sharpness met the dimly glowing air in front of the shield. It left a dank grey slit in the silver, which was quickly reflected onto his ghostly face like a mirror. The cut was clean. More black blood sped over his features.

The boy shrieked and threw both arms over his head, stumbling back. Though more in surprise than pain.

"Why is it that he fights with two minds?" Runa asked, renewing her grip on her sword.

Malathos turned and looked as if he was about to ask what she meant. But then his face fell.

Doppelganger wiped the strange black liquid from his eyes, and leapt at Yashiro again. But this time, his sword trailed behind him, and his free hand was outstretched and clawing…

Marissa's halberd pummelled into the ground again. The swordsman sidestepped, obviously surprised. He recovered in time to dodge a swift horizontal swipe from Runa's two-handed sword. He leapt dramatically over them and landed cleanly.

"He's very agile too," Runa noted sadly.

Marissa re-gathered her hold on her weapon and charged, and so did Khan this time. Doppelganger swerved under the halberd, and Khan caught him with a sweep-kick. The boy stumbled, and picked himself to avoid a lance thrust, and threw himself out of the way of a vicious vertical attack from Marissa.

"_Iyo te tallis seignuris Dios de malé_," Runa yelled fiercely. _I am one who serves God._ Doppelganger wheeled around, alarmed. He ran for her, but quickly received the handle of Marissa's halberd to the side of his throat.

"_Iyo al kito iero per mae-a stillo né_." _I will not waver in my duty._ The swordsman's knees collided with the ground, and his palms shot out to break his fall. He swung his sword around to parry a lance thrust.

"_Domo so i keta per mae-a everiste te dia tari._" _Let justice rain upon the beings of shadow. _Doppelganger was getting desperate. He pummelled his fist into Marissa's jaw, then he brought his sword down on Khan's lance. The weapon was swept aside. Before the paladin could even blink, the swordsman bashed him in the forehead with the hilt of the broadsword. His vision blackened and pain shot through his head. He caught a glance of Malathos, who groaned and held a wrist over his bleeding forehead.

"_Iyo te tallis seignuris Dios de malé. Iyo lex ondora merhym ala kesa-kara ou Mayis Ta._"_ I am one who serves God. I command the blessing of the Grand Cross. _Doppelganger stood helplessly in front of Runa as she held her sword in a strong salute. "_Eno va shi stai._"

The ground erupted with white energy. The marks of the Grand Cross (the rips formed on the caster; the Grand Cross was famous not only for it's power but for the way it harmed its user. The rips only ever formed over certain places) became visible on her face through the wave of magic. They were two scarlet lines on each of her cheeks, and they bled. Khan did a quick headcount of the other places: upper-arms, chest, shoulder blades, hips and shins.

The boy shrieked through the white, and tried to brush off the spell he was stood in, as it were dust on his clothes. He writhed and clutched his arms as they burned. Runa stayed upright and impressive.

The spell flashed and gave one last dramatic explosion of holy power. Doppelganger screamed a scream thick with rage and agony, and toppled to his knees. He sobbed, as he had when they found him.

He hunched further over, and left his sword forgotten on the floor.

The place was still.

There was the change again. Death can be very painful, Khan realized. He'd rather not die. Where would he go? No one knew. The wisest of the wise, they didn't know. He should just turn and leave. Pain was bad, death was bad…

The crying boy took another abrupt change. It became the thing with the growl. The thing that didn't know what it was. The thing of malice.

Runa saw the change, and clenched her weapon possibly a lot harder than she meant to. Doppelganger went from kneeling to attacking in one swift unseen movement. The broadsword flew in a horizontal sweep, aimed loosely for her chest. It struck true and Runa fell back. The insane child swung his blade left and right with too much ferocity. Runa flinched and Malathos bled from the gaps in his armour.

Yashiro sprinted to Runa's aid with his shield enchanted. A giant cleave was quickly mirrored onto Doppelganger's torso. Yashiro took the moment's hesitation to backhand the boy with the flat of his shield. Runa was there in a split second. She made a horizontal and a vertical slash in quick succession, in the shape of a cross, which glowed white and burned in the swordsman's chest. Khan wheeled around to heal the wounds Malathos had sustained for the four of them as Marissa ran in for her own attack.

"Finally," Malathos said as amiably as he could through his focus. Khan grinned weakly, then began to focus himself. As soon as he did, he felt the change passing over their foe…

As the halberd blade entered his side, Doppelganger grabbed the handle of the weapon to stop it going any deeper. He skidded dramatically as it made its journey. He eyed the blade more than warily.

He used the handle as a launch point and threw himself off the blade by leaping back out of the way. As soon as he'd landed, he went for Marissa from the side with clumsy decisive attacks. She met the first few with her own weapon, but with his speed and proximity, she couldn't retreat to a less awkward range and she couldn't keep up with him. A carefully placed vertical strike found it's way through a gap in her armour and into her shoulder. She yelped and backed away. He swung his fists and the handle of his sword handle furiously across her face. Runa ran back to help Khan stem Malathos' injuries, which now included a deep cleave through the shoulder and a broken nose.

Khan patted Runa on the shoulder as he hurried to help Yashiro and Marissa in their renewed assault. Marissa stuck first, and missed. Khan followed with a well-executed horizontal swipe, which missed. He quickly brought his lance back for a thrust, aimed for the boy who stood static to the left of his previous attack. The next strike was also unsuccessful. Yashiro tried to catch the swordsman with a quick one-two strike with his sword and shield. Miss, miss. Vertical attack from the halberd. Miss. Swipe from the sword. Miss. A sweep kick. Miss.

Khan growled in frustration and brought his lance upwards in a diagonal sweep. Miss. Marissa pulled off another of her spectacular downwards strikes. Doppelganger stepped nimbly around it to her side. With a clumsy movement, he smashed his foot into the back of her knee. Khan went in for an uppercut with his lance. The swordsman leapt over the attack as it rose; he vaulted off the weapon's handle with his hands and was up in the air again. He "landed" on Khan's neck and with surprising strength drove both feet into the paladin's throat. The pain shocked him, the air stopped flowing to his lungs and he fell back. Doppelganger had thrown himself into an extravagant back flip, straight over the now kneeling Marissa. He turned in the air, and as he fell, his heel smashed weightily into Yashiro's elbow. Runa set about healing Malathos' newly broken arm.

With the advantage gained, Doppelganger chanted his own spells. The first was a swordsman's basic spell of agility. The second Khan didn't understand, but he did know that the incantation began with the words "I summon".

What the spell did was made very clear very soon. Rips were forming in the air like candle flames. Something red and black was on the other side. But that changed quickly.

Something dark and stormy sea-blue was crawling through. It trickled through the wound in the sky in thick, oozing droplets. As they touched the ruined streets, they sprang into flames that didn't cast any light. The fire then erupted into form – a pair of legs, a stout, strong body, another pair of legs that toppled to the ground with a dull thud of hooves…

The head of a horse with no trace of eyes wound itself onto the hollow gap of the "neck". Khan stared; there were seven now wheeling around to face their enemies.

These were creatures that prowled the Barren in the north. These were creatures of an unknown abyss. Humans called them the Nightmares.

One of the monsters galloped at Khan. As it neared, the horse's head disappeared to reveal a torso draped in a dark fiery cloak wielding a scythe. He readied his lance for a thrust.

Khan struck first, aiming for the horse's stomach. The lance went straight through as if the thing didn't exist – it really _was_ comprised of nothing but that strange fire! No sooner did the thought cross his mind than he had to throw himself out of the way from a dangerous sweep from the scythe. The Nightmare passed him and turned to make another attack.

He quickly began to chant the blessing of the Holy Cross. The creature galloped again, but Khan was ready; he leapt forward with a vertical and horizontal attack, one after the other, forming a glowing white cross over the Nightmare. The dark blue became white, and exploded with a shriek of anguish from the creature.

Khan felt a very important presence leave him – Malathos was lifting the Devotion spell.

"You three go after Doppelganger," he yelled as he and Runa set about disposing of the Nightmare swarm. Khan was about to protest that he could be very seriously hurt, but then he realized how selfish that was. He immediately felt ashamed.

Runa executed a Holy Light spell, and then a Holy Cross attack immediately after. Malathos leapt forward, also using the Holy Cross attack. Trying hard not to think about the injuries he'd probably take, Khan turned to face Doppelganger.

Instantly, he had to raise a gauntleted arm to meet a swift strike from the swordsman. Khan expected him to follow through, but the boy leapt back again very quickly – a shield had flown out of nowhere and lodged itself into the crumbling wall on the other side of the street.

Khan blinked. So did Doppelganger.

Then Khan remembered that Yashiro could throw his shield like that. Doppelganger didn't.

Khan wasted no time in taking full advantage of his foe's confusion, and managed to stab him in the gut. Doppelganger shouted in surprise and retreated further. He was quickly met with a halberd swung heftily into the side of his head. He was thrown to the floor in a translucent mess of flesh and black.

Khan suddenly became aware of the fact that he _really_ didn't want to die…

Doppelganger threw himself at Marissa. Yashiro tackled him to the ground before he could reach her. The broadsword was flung across the street. With a flurry of angry kicks and frantic scrabbling, Yashiro was rolling over, forming new bruises and gasping for air, and Doppelganger was stumbling to his feet. The swordsman recovered and hunched over into balance. He threw himself at Yashiro and hammered his fists into whatever part of the crusader there was. He completely ignored his weapon.

Malathos was forward within a second and smashed his shield into Doppelganger's temple. The boy was hurled onto his side, surprised. He somehow managed to struggle into a sitting position very quickly, and tried to back away from there. Malathos followed up by pounding the handle of his sword into the swordsman's head, throwing him onto his back. Doppelganger used the momentum of the attack to roll back over into a crouching position from where he leapt back. His front was a web of black blood.

The second he landed, Runa cast Holy Light, and Khan had run forward to follow through with a Holy Cross attack.

The change swept over the child's features as he fell, and he scrambled to the side to avoid Marissa's halberd. Both his fists collided with her face, throwing her off-balance. He ran to retrieve his sword.

The second his hand closed around the handle, he whirled around to meet an attack from Runa. She recovered quickly and swiped again, meeting nothing but air. He clasped his sword with both hands and drove it through the gap in her armour – below her rib cage.

There was a ripping sound of steel and flesh. Khan stared, not sure what to make of it. There was something so wrong and disgusting about the way she tensed as the blade was twisted and pulled out.

She toppled to her knees, where she swayed, but stayed upright.

Marissa gaped.

Malathos ran forward to heal her.

Yashiro tried to stand.

Khan forgot what was going on and that he was part of it.

Khan remembered and readied his lance for one of Doppelganger's lightning-fast attacks, and found nothing. The swordsman had fled. Khan saw him sprinting around a corner at the end of the road.

He was heading for Geffen Tower.

-X-X-

The ship was a pleasant environment with its jovial, weather beaten crew and biting cold ocean air. Summer waned sleepily over the Western Sea. The sunlight shattered like glass as it touched the icy waves.

Hawk was faced with an emotional dilemma; he was determined that he had nothing to offer Kyo, but he couldn't just ignore her entirely, especially in her present state. He could either take Oshi's advice and radically change his character, and approach her, or he could do the easy thing of _not_ radically changing his character and remain silent and wilfully ignorant. Spending time with Kyo, however, both options increased in difficulty and he found he was beginning to find that the first option, despite being the harder of the two, was the one he wanted to take.

_But what the Hel do lovers do anyway? _the stubborn part of him spluttered indignantly. He didn't know why this was such a huge leap in his personal development, but it was.

With a crestfallen sigh at the acknowledgement of his own wishes, and his gaping lack of experience in dealing with people, he decided to retreat to his stubborn-not-radically-character-changing choice. This could mean that he ignored the dancer entirely.

There was something wrong with her, however, and part of him wouldn't allow himself to be that insensitive. She was very pale and always looked strained through her smiles. Also, he never saw her sleep at night – she only ever slept in daylight.

So, he was cordial with her. As nice as he could be without bordering on affectionate. If before she was likely to admit what was bothering her, then she wasn't now. She hugged him once, for her own support rather than his own he noted, and he returned it stiffly. It saddened her greatly, Alder informed him with what could only be interpreted as a sigh.

And so the week passed very slowly.

Taiken barely moved most of the time. Oshi, strangely enough, brought the bard meals every so often. Afterwards, the assassin would go and confer with Draco quietly. He would go and sit with Ruriko, who had become jumpy and nervous and wouldn't sleep unless she had someone to cling on to. Draco would invite Kyo to sit with Chisel and herself. They would keep Taiken company. Taiken would play his guitar, and Kyo accompany him on the oridecon flute Chisel had given him. Or she would sing. It alarmed Hawk that she was a good singer, but it wasn't because he didn't expect it. Her voice was clear and thin, like silver, and it was the closest thing to angelic he could possibly imagine.

Alder comforted the hunter from a distance. The bird swooped down to join his companion, telling him carefully that it's OK to feel the way he feels, being scared is a natural part of being in love, and there was no shame in waiting until he was ready. Hawk replied in the negative, especially about the being in love bit.

Alder however, radiating smugness, replied with something along the lines of, _I think I probably know you better than you know yourself._ Hawk nearly pouted.

x-x-x

A crisp, ocean afternoon saw the arrival of a letter, bearing the Royal seal, and carried by an osprey. The bird soared like a falling ribbon, and dispatched the letter into Ruriko's lap, and was gone as quickly as it came. Hawk informed the group that the osprey was not a hunter's bird; from what he gathered, it was here at the request of a ranger in the northern forests.

Ruriko handed the letter to Taiken to read out, who groaned from his sitting position and tore the seal away, frowning. He read aloud:

"_To Ruriko, graduate of Yuno, Sage, Guild Mistress of the God's Cry._

_Firstly, I offer my congratulations to your newest member, on her qualification from Comodo. I hear she is a survivor of Arie. I regret to inform you, however, that she is the only one who escaped. Deepest sympathy to her, also._

_Secondly, I wish for you to make haste to deal with the Culvert situation. The Sentinel's Guild has been called out, but we still have no idea what we are dealing with. The fighters who went down there tell me it is a giant golden thief bug._

_Lastly, and my main reason for writing, is that a similar problem arose in Gonryun. A sort of snake demon emerged from the old court (I believe your blacksmith knows where I mean). A unit of monks, along with three champions, Marius, Mariel and Kalis, and a professor, Akiro, met its attack, and were forced to flee._

_Cardinal Orius informs me that there is no worry of danger now. Akiro cast a sealing on the mountain, which is quite unbreakable, so the thing is well contained. Do not be anxious, sage, for the young man's health. It is true that he is completely incapacitated and constantly exhausted, and I will also not deny that until the seal is removed, he is likely to remain so. He is to remain in Gonryun, where he will receive every possible attention. Marius promises me he will be very well looked after. This next detail means nothing to me, but… The spell was cast with this incantation_…"

Below it were apparently a selection of runes, and Taiken handed the note to Ruriko. Her eyes widened as she scanned the page.

"Is it bad, little sister?" asked Draco; she didn't understand what had happened to Akiro, and she had a feeling he was about to give Ruriko a good stab through her unblemished little heart.

She blinked a few times, as if something had been made clear to her. Her first attempt at an answer came out as, "I… uh…" Her second made slightly more sense. "Sis, you remember _Iero Profa_? Well, what Akiro did is _so_ much worse…"

Draco remembered. She suddenly felt so very numb. She didn't know why.

The sage handed the note back to Taiken stiffly, who received it as if it might explode. He continued reading in a careful monotone. But everything around Draco had shifted into something from a dream. The sway of the ship was miles beneath her. Taiken moved his lips and his voice travelled forever before she heard it.

The only thing that remained clear was Ruriko. The girl listened with static attention. She paced. She fidgeted. She sighed sharply. Then she paced again. Her hair swished like snakes. Her pouts and her twitches sped up, and time slowed down.

After what seemed like a bleary hour, Taiken finished reading and looked anxiously at Ruriko. Then she did something she hadn't done for a long time.

"_Kesteta! Kesteta! O kono ki yarilla massu te thieplis fu-fu ler…_"

A temper tantrum in the Language of the Making. The last time she'd done that, Taiken had been in Gonryun Sanctuary and on the brink of death.

Ruriko had always been odd, and one of the things that made her so was that she found the Language of the Making a lot easier than common-tongue. So any outbursts were in the Language of the Making, where she could more easily express the extent of her emotion.

It obviously wasn't working this time, as after a minute of the angry, melodious routine, she ceased and sought the comfort of Draco's arms.

-X-X-

Tristan had become lightly agitated again, and the immediate remedy was to visit Arne.

He entered the wizard's room to find him sat cross-legged on the balcony, with a plain notebook sat open in his lap. He walked over and sat down next to him. The night outside was still and clear, as crisp as fresh linen sheets, and even the harsh amber of the street lamps had quietened down. The sky looked like soft velvet with its beautiful violet hue. The stars looked so different…

It was a slightly strange scene. Tristan worked out why a second later, when Arne pushed a pair of large round glasses back up his nose. A lot of his iciness had melted away, and what was left of it disintegrated with the presence of thick black frames ringing the sharp blue eyes.

The prince had to stifle a laugh. But Arne caught the amusement in his face.

"They're only reading glasses," he said with affectionate huffiness.

There was a strange aura rippling through the air. It was like ghostly red ribbons crawling over the horizon. Tristan decided it was some strange spell his companion had activated.

"What are you doing?" the prince asked a little sceptically.

"Trying to read the stars," replied Arne, after a slight, hefty sigh.

"Not much success then?"

"Not especially, no."

"Is there any particular reason for this?"

"Does there need to be any other reason than the flawless conditions?"

"For someone who has never shown any partiality for astrology, yes."

Arne sighed again, and Tristan realized suddenly that this was actually a slightly more delicate matter than appeared.

"I was never any good at the whole star-reading bit. I can't actually remember how I got through that part in school. When I was promoted to High Wizard, Ivas immediately set about trying to teach me. I was arrogant and told him I just couldn't do it."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I just… I just really miss everyone. Especially Ivas. He did so much for me, and I remained as conceited as I ever was. I thought that maybe… if I could do what he told me then now, it would be like… I'd made it up to him. I'd give… quite a lot to be able to see Ivas, just once, ask him what I should do… now, I mean… and to say that I'm sorry."

Tristan realized something, with a slightly nauseating jolt. "You haven't mourned anyone yet, have you?"

Arne looked at him in slight surprise, then quickly turned back to his notes. He looked quite mesmerized by them. He poised his pen purposefully, and sat completely still.

"I couldn't," he said at some length, voice carefully bland again. It stung Tristan; he felt like a stranger again.

"Is it really that bad?"

"Well…" Arne actually wrote something, but crossed it out again immediately. He marked a huge rune, which the prince couldn't read. He sighed, and raised his eyes to the stars again. "First, I had to lead everyone out. Secondly, we arrived here. Jiro is depressed, Pridith is mute, Elle is fussing… when is there time to mourn?"

"No one will think any less of you."

"It still feels like I can't. Not now, not now…"

The scene was far too strange. Tristan didn't know what to say, and he didn't like it. Arne sat so sullenly. It wasn't right to see him so subdued. With him feeling the way he was, Tristan was the one who had to be the strong one. Tristan wanted to be able to ask the wizard to explain why… why he felt the way he did. He didn't know what made him the way he was, and he didn't know if he had any strength at all.

Although, when the thought came to his head, he remembered his own situation. His own father, neither alive nor dead. What was he supposed to think about that?

The silence was as dark and as heavy as the night.

"Don't concern yourself with me," the wizard added. "It is not merely for this state of mind that I am out here."

"What is the other reason?"

Arne looked at him, in a slightly condescending manner. He pointed the tip of the pen directly upwards, and said, "That."

Tristan looked up, and saw the pale red light of the aura, rippling like a stormy sea of wine. The moon shone in its own crimson halo. The stars _did_ look different… an alien web of constellations, no shapes to be made from the sharp white flecks of light. There were none of the formations he'd picked out as a child. This sky was wrong.

"That light is concerning me," Arne murmured with a heavy frown. Tristan felt himself jump.

"Didn't you do that?"

"No," was the flat reply.

He shook his head. "So… where are the constellations?"

"That's another point; a lot of them are deformed, almost. Nidhogg's pointing the other way; Verdandi, Urd and Skuld have separated; Hoddmimir's dimmed, a lot. And that star…" He pointed to a large, rosy speck, which looked as though it were a lot closer than the others. "I've seen it a few times. I've seen it glow red on some occasions, and it does it more and more often. Either way, it's not supposed to be here."

"This will probably be much talked of…"

"Well, I think I can give a nice, believable prediction," whispered Arne cynically. "The world is changing, which we all already know. The world is disintegrating, the stars tell us. This change affects all of Midgard." He paused. "But then, we all knew that."

-X-X-

Though nothing to the merciless heat of the south, the western desert was a thick, coarse land. It was cool and dry like cracked skin, with a sharp blue sky and soft sand.

And somewhere, Phreeoni lurked in a cold damp cave, unmoving, and… _hungry_, according to good authority. Although, apparently, it could take precedence over whatever crisis the prince was facing in Prontera.

The rocks pummelled back over the entrance of the labyrinth with a very solid thud. Hawk watched almost a little wistfully, but wasn't sure why. His hair dangled precariously around his forehead and still annoyed him; he wore a simple bandana, a welcome relief compared to the extravagant Solar God Helm.

"OK…" Taiken began, strumming an experimental chord on his guitar, "are we all ready? I hope we are, considering we just locked our front door."

Six noises of affirmation, varying in enthusiasm, rippled over the guild.

Taiken sighed. "Oh, come on!" he said exasperatedly. "Isn't there someone who's forgotten something?" He paused for an answer. "Anyone at all?" A bemused silence. "Don't be shy now." He gave everyone a calculating glare. "Ruriko?"

"Me?" spluttered the sage indignantly. "No, I'm very ready…"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ruriko, you've always forgotten something."

Ruriko frowned, genuinely confused, and turned to Draco. "Sis," she mumbled nervously, "I'm sure I have everything…"

Draco smiled. "Taiken, stop being silly. This is serious."

"Yeah!" piped up Ruriko with a pout. "You're trying to make me out as a big thicky, when we're supposed to be eliminating a big pink thing that given Oshi a right old beating…"

"Gave," said Draco. "We are all ready, Taiken."

The bard sighed again. "OK… Open the door, Ruriko; I forgot my dagger…"

There was a bewildered silence and a stiff dry breeze. Eventually, "Do it yourself!" snapped Ruriko huffily.

A few minutes later, the guild stood assembled and ready in the desert's cold grit. Draco had her favourite daggers sheathed at her waist and a pair of armguards was strapped into place. Chisel brandished an axe with one hand, and was casting a blacksmith's blessings for battle. Hawk slipped into focus, feeling his heart speed up and his mind clear, and invoked the advanced hunter's spell of "Windwalk", a supportive technique that sharpened his guild's senses. "_Keya-ayis stai gyaifir_," he whispered, which literally meant "improve concentration", and he saw his vision become brighter and refine to needle-like precision. He heard Taiken and Kyo do the same.

Taiken dubbed the affair "Operation Anti-Lick."

"I'd just like to have some professionalism about this," he said with a wave of his hand. "What's the element of the day, Ruriko?"

"…Huh?"

"Don't say "huh", sweetheart, it isn't polite. What spells are you going to be using?" said Draco.

"Oh…! Ice. That way I should be able to freeze it."

"OK," Taiken decided. He turned to Oshi. "Anything else we desperately need to know about it?"

"The other creatures will come to it's aid, and it can use Stone Curse. Also, watch out for it's saliva – it's acidic. Hurts a lot."

Taiken seemed to be on the verge of adding something to that, but thought better of it.

Hawk would've been happy to lag behind the group alone, but Ruriko, who was both far too friendly and not an excellent walker, was obligated to lag with him. He amused himself a short while with her walking routine. She would amble next to him, and being the short little thing that she was, she fell behind; after a short while, she would jog to catch up, then start falling behind again.

The entrance to Anthell looked more than quite like a mouth. The hole was circular in shape, and rimmed smoothly with what appeared to be ribs or claws – thus the illusion of a fanged mouth sprang to mind.

Oshi and Draco entered first, with their movements skilfully cloaked. Hawk, with the help of Alder and his magically enhanced senses, could still see them, so it was his job to enter the cave next, so that he could follow the assassins and everyone else could follow him. Chisel and Ruriko came next, and Taiken and Kyo stayed at the rear of the group.

The caves were darker than he remembered, despite the presence of more torches. Oshi's heavy katars were already drawn, and he strode with them nonchalantly at his sides. Draco's daggers remained in their sheaths, and she walked just as leisurely.

They followed the tunnel's thick, dry course for quite some time. It was stuffy, and the relief of breathing deeply wasn't brilliant. Ruriko groaned, and Hawk shot her a warning glare. She remained quiet. Not long afterwards, Draco stepped out of the shadows, Oshi followed, and they conferred quietly about some kind of way to track the creature.

"Another minute or so."

Kyo said it, and everyone turned to stare at her. She didn't seem particularly phased. She clasped both chakrams in front of her with a slightly unsettling calmness.

"Follow the way you were going," she continued. "You were on the right track."

Oshi nodded and slipped back into the shadows, continuing down the passage. Draco hesitated slightly before doing the same. Hawk also hesitated, staring incredulously at the dancer. He stopped when she stared back at him. He turned quickly to catch up with the assassins, ignoring the feeling of guilt brewing in the base of his stomach.

Surely enough, after no more than a minute's walk, came a rattling, throaty sound. It couldn't possibly be a living thing making that noise, could it…? Hawk looked up to see Oshi nodding at him, in the that's-it-we've-reached-it sort of way. Ahead, there was a wide clearing in the rocks, bathed in dust, and a sickening, musky smell wafted horribly from it.

Hawk made a gesture behind him to move to the walls. Chisel's boots and heavy walk moved to the right, as did Kyo's light half-skip, and they waited with Oshi. Hawk moved left; Taiken peered over his shoulder and Ruriko hid behind his arm.

Framed ominously in the amber light was Phreeoni, a sight a lot more impressive than Chisel's description allowed. True, it was a dull mauve colour, had almost no legs, and should've looked utterly ridiculous… but it's starved gasps, callously jagged teeth and mad, rolling eyes swiftly obliterated these thoughts.

"_Hungry…_" it panted; Taiken winced. It sounded as if the thing's throat had been shredded, and it's voice travelled up ripped, bloody strands beneath its tongue. "_Always hungry…_"

"What a G sharp harmonic minor voice!" exclaimed the bard quietly.

"It is, isn't it," replied Kyo, regarding the creature with a very strange look in her eye. She looked too afraid… she shouldn't be here…

As Phreeoni's tongue dragged across the floor, it trailed a thick, slow, slightly yellow liquid. It left deep channels in the sand, which steamed with a quiet, yet somehow far too harsh, "_Hi-issss_."

The acidic saliva.

"Wait, is that why it can't eat anything?" spluttered Taiken, voice shaking slightly.

"Are we actually going to move or do anything at all?" Kyo hissed. Hawk looked at her in surprise. Her face was white – that was clear, even in the terrible light. Her voice was rising erratically, in volume and pitch.

He was seriously considering taking her out of the cave, and asking her what was wrong. But… "What's the plan then?" whispered Draco, as Oshi sprinted out of hiding, tensing his arm to strike.

Phreeoni wheeled around, immensely surprised. Chisel yelped and followed Oshi. Draco groaned and followed Chisel.

The tongue came crashing down – it was a lot more muscular than it looked, apparently! Oshi leapt out of its way; Chisel sidestepped, and it slipped past him uncomfortably. Hawk notched his bow, and Alder took off for an attack. An assassin's throwing knives and the hunter's arrows were soon lodged messily into Phreeoni's head, and the falcon swooped down with ground-shaking speed.

The sound of Taiken's guitar and the steps of Kyo's dance made Hawk jump, and he quickly made sure to not look at them. A fast, vicious chant rang tunefully from the pair. The music burst into a shock of coloured light. It felt strangely solid… Hawk thought back to a conversation on the ship – they were doing this song so that Ruriko didn't have to use any catalysts for her spells.

The sage raised her diary with her right hand and nothing with her left hand, shouting out the chant for her spell.

"_Eno va shi stai_," she roared, bringing both arms down. Something blue and not really there was thrown from her left hand, and it exploded into a turbulent mist of deep azure, dampness and an icy gleam. An ice enchantment.

She wheeled around and began enchanting everyone's weapons with ice also. Hawk shivered as his bow flourished a new sheen of blue and white; it was freezing to touch. As the assassins and Chisel attacked, their blades flashed a watery, solid shine, and they left splinters of ice on Phreeoni.

Hawk stared down an arrow, poised and ready to fire, at the creature. Draco and Oshi became very difficult to see when in combat. They cloaked non-stop and moved too quickly. There was always the chance that he might accidentally shoot one of them – he'd done it before.

The creature threw itself forward, and collided with Draco. She was thrown to the ground, and quickly rearranged herself into a squatting position. Phreeoni's jaw gaped open, revealing a lot more teeth than Hawk would've thought possible. Draco leapt back out of the way, leaving a near-perfect copy of herself (appearance-wise; it was called the Second Self) knelt in front of the creature. Many sharp jagged teeth ploughed straight through the assassin's half-visible second self. The creature's insane eyes tumbled with confusion.

Hawk was about to fire when Oshi leapt out of hiding and slashed it across the side. It spun around and met Chisel's axe with an angry scream. The blacksmith, right next to the creature, yelped and threw his hands over his ears, forgetting his weapon. Hawk fired, and fired again, in a bit of a panic. He heard a spell shouted next to him, and turned to see Ruriko jump up and stamp both feet into the ground as she landed. In front of her, splinters of ice sprung out of the ground rocketed through the blue-white mists towards their target.

Phreeoni jerked backwards as the spell struck, and angrily shook away the newly formed icicles.

"That should've frozen it!" moaned the sage indignantly.

It shrieked. Oshi backed away, with his hands over his ears. Draco saw danger and ran forward. Stab, round kick, heel-drop, backhand slash, stab; she swerved out of the way and was concealed in the shadows very quickly. Oshi took her place and pounded their foe with his katars at lightning speed.

Phreeoni's hide must have been very thick. It was covered in dull, clean slits, but few bled. But it was angry. That much was clear from the way it shook, and the way it's eyes darted all over the place like fireworks. It threw all of it's power and all of it's fury into it's attacks.

Oshi was smashed to the side. He landed awkwardly, half-conscious, and there was a dull crackle like a twig snapping. Phreeoni roared triumphantly and it's many rows of teeth flashed into view, just as the assassin stumbled to awareness again. Chisel ran to his rescue. The creature met the axe with the teeth, and the tongue pummelled into the blacksmith from the left, throwing him madly to the other end of the cave. The dull hiss of a burn followed.

The shot was clear. Hawk notched his bow and fired as fast as he knew how. At Ruriko's command, another path of ice shards tore across the ground. Taiken strummed a new song on his guitar, and as the music flowed, the harsh, reddening burns mended. And Phreeoni staggered towards them… the ones who could barely defend themselves…

_Fwoosh!_

A large, heavy throwing knife soared from nowhere. It landed in the Phreeoni's vast back. It screamed as it fell forward, in it's high-pitched, rough shriek of torn red flesh. Thick black blood crept past the hilt. The handle pointed at Draco.

It screamed again. It darted across the mists as if on wheels. Draco swerved dangerously out of the way. She leapt over the tongue as it whipped around instantly in a broad circle. It threw itself at her again, and she sprinted nimbly to safety. Chisel's axe pounded into it's muscular weight. It skidded, and the tongue swept back to counter.

Oshi's katar was suddenly poised to slash the exposed organ; but the assassin struck empty air. He was swept heavily out of the way. His back collided with the wall, and his head followed too quickly. He remained sat down, head drooping, slumped, and unmoving.

Draco's foot collided with Phreeoni's outer-teeth with a satisfying _crack!_ The instant she landed, the tongue smashed into her back; she fell forward.

A panicky chant in the Language of the Making… gigantic ice shards unfurled, steely sharp and a lot larger than they normally were, into the air. They darted at Phreeoni, exploding into tiny glittering splinters at impact.

An opening. Notch, pull back, release, as many times as possible. Fourteen arrowheads pummelled through. But then Draco was up; slash, and stab.

Phreeoni bit back a shriek and retched. It opened it's mouth, and an amber coloured gas erupted from between the many teeth. Draco yelped slightly, and her movements became sluggish for less than a second. Then there was a cracking sound like breaking rocks.

And then she was still.

Stone Curse.

Ruriko squealed shrilly. She ran to her sister, a red gemstone glowing from one of her bracelets.

Completely ignoring Phreeoni of course.

Hawk panicked, and shouted – he couldn't notch his bow quick enough. Phreeoni's teeth would plunge straight through the girl's neck. She would die instantly. And…

It stopped. With one of it's piercing, coarse shrieks of pain. It took the hunter a second of two to see why.

A bladed ring, a Chisel-original, aimed well and thrown hard, was lodged deeply into the creature's top jaw.

Hawk looked to his left, where the musicians were stood. Taiken stared wide-eyed at the spectacle, but continued his song of mending.

"_Viastes stai_," Kyo commanded her weapon, and the chakram flew cleanly back into her outstretched hand.

Phreeoni paused. It hesitated. It's insane eyes stopped, and fixed on the dancer. The whole place froze – even the mists of the ice enchantment slowed down.

A low rumble, like an earthquake rippled through the dank air. Hawk then realized that it was Phreeoni… growling. Angrily. With uncontrollable fury. It could kill quickly. Being killed wasn't nice. There was a lot of pain involved, and then nothing. There was nothing worse than pain and then nothing. Death…

"_YOU!_" it screamed with sickening ferocity. So loud, and as sharp as a blade. The cave had started again, no longer the back breaking still it was before. It was too fast now. Phreeoni's eyes spun madly. It lunged across the cave straight for Kyo.

"Me…" whispered Kyo with a sigh. She swallowed, and stiffened fearfully for the thing's merciless attack.


	14. Pledges

_Pledges_

_Kyo… what have you done…?_

No answer was visible on her face. Phreeoni hurtled towards her, ready to plough straight through. She stared at the blaring, screaming threat, swallowing visibly and biting her lip. She looked as if she was about to be sick.

The dancer sidestepped lightly, and a second later, Phreeoni's weight pummelled into where she had stood. The thing had barely turned before she'd sprinted to the other side of the cave, avoiding the tongue. The creature wheeled around, tongue ready again… _Smash! Bang! Break!_ the assault shouted, the cave shattering like glass. Kyo slipped around the attacks tensely, lips moving soundlessly with the words _go away, go away, go away_.

A dry cough brought Hawk back to his senses, and he turned to see Draco coughing on a strange red dust emitted from a gemstone bracelet – Ruriko removing the Stone Curse.

Alder told Hawk sharply to actually get back to his senses; more under the falcon's instruction than his own, the hunter notched an arrow and aimed for Phreeoni. The tongue soared narrowly past Kyo's neck, and with a quick flash of confidence, he fired. The arrow flew swiftly, and was soon lodged into an earthy wall and Phreeoni's tongue.

The sand shook and the dust fell as another torn, grating scream erupted from the creature, its pitch erratic and its volume unbearable. The dull _hi-issss_ emerged, and Hawk looked up to find the thick glutinous liquid beginning to seep over the arrow; it was going to disintegrate. He reached into his quiver, and found, exactly where he expected it to be, an arrow of immaterial. He didn't understand how the thing worked, but reasoned that some strange acidic saliva shouldn't be able to get rid of it too quickly.

Another scream sank into the damp walls, and the place was still again. A shuffling made Hawk jump, and he whirled around to see Kyo rising to her feet, shaking. The air was so heavy, it felt as if it could drown the humans standing in it. The rasping gasps and murmuring hiss rumbled like storms.

"_Retches!_" came a thick, high-pitched snarl.

"It doesn't mean us, by the way…" Oshi murmured, standing up. He looked a little dazed. Alder informed Hawk that it could have been concussion, but neither the hunter nor the bird were entirely sure of what concussion was.

"Oh good, I was about to act offended," Taiken said mildly.

A frantic rattle of ants' legs poured like a flood through the cave, springing to alert at their master's call with blank urgency. They came in a thick tide of glistening, scraping insect hide.

"Do we have to deal with them, because I really can't be bothered…?" called Draco. But Ruriko had already sprinted forward, and was raising the ever-familiar Fire Wall spell. Just as she was about to look satisfied, drill-like teeth sank into her shoulder.

She wheeled around, carrying her "_Eek_!" of surprise with her, diary poised to smack. But the thing had sunk back into the ground, making a channel of moist sand. Alder counted seven.

"Hodes," Hawk said dryly. They were ugly things, with non-descript flesh coloured bodies, small, black beady eyes, and deceptively large mouths, lined viciously with sharp cone-shaped teeth. They were strong like snakes, but they were technically worms. The thing that annoyed Hawk was that they tended to stay in the ground… until they attacked, that is. They were aggressive, territorial things, and were more than capable of killing younger fighters.

Oshi, however, was an experienced assassin with aggression issues of his own; so when a hode emerged to sink its teeth into him, it was sliced into four uneven segments with a pair of katars.

"Tedious," he growled. Close by, Kyo's heel smashed into another, and it fell to the ground instantly in a crumpled, dented heap.

Hawk held his bow in his defensive stance, watching a channel of wet sand move towards him. Alder told him not to bother; Kyo was moving to intercept it already. The hunter frowned.

Satisfied, however, he notched an arrow, ready, and his eyes fell on Taiken, who was running a knife through one of the worms awkwardly. Hawk fired, and the thing toppled instantly at the bard's feet with an arrowhead stuck through its mouth.

Two heavy crashes from an axe and two muffled _flumph_'son the sand informed the hunter that Chisel had dispatched another two, which meant the last…

Hawk heard it before he had time to find it. There was a deep rumble of fire, and a high-pitched "_Eeeee!_" He turned to see a hode, bottom half burnt solid black, flying through the air, trailing sand. Ruriko was very strange. _She could've just frozen it discreetly, but no! She has to blow it out of the bloody ground…_ Other than that, the sight was quite amusing.

Phreeoni breathed heavily. The _hi-iiss_ of the saliva grew in intensity. Ruriko gave the thing a sardonic frown.

"_Feyis roi-té stai_."

Shards of ice flew from above to Phreeoni in a blur of white and a cold breeze. They shattered noisily, issuing screams of rage from their target.

"_Feyis roi-té stai_."

The air became colder, and the ice pummelled into Phreeoni again. Ruriko stood with a hand on her hip and stared at the thing as it cried, and it stared back with bright red hate.

"_Feyis roi-té stai_."

The creature roared like vulture, and it's amber saliva oozed thickly. With a triumphant hiss, it flew away from the wall, with a Language of the Making chant echoing shrilly in its torn throat.

"_Kai yitta me oros_," roared Ruriko, a smirk ringing in her voice. The last time someone had asked what the spell was, an argument broke out. Apparently, it was the words _eno va shi stai_ backwards, but it didn't sound anything like it. Ruriko tried explaining with a complicated diagram of the runes and the way they had to be reversed… not making a dent on anyone's ignorance, of course. Either way, Phreeoni's spell was broken. Hence, the technique's name: Spell Break.

Ruriko's smugness didn't last for long. Phreeoni slammed into her like a muscled boulder. She fell; as she was about to get up, the tongue swung across her face. Then the teeth were bared in their sharp glistening glory. With a gasp, she scrambled to the left. Phreeoni bit viciously into her torso. She squealed as she left the ground, clenched in Phreeoni's jaws. The hiss of the saliva roared irregularly.

Draco was there within a second. Two daggers were driven angrily into the mass of mauve. With a kick that looked too wide for human legs, Phreeoni's head was jerked to the side. It nearly dropped Ruriko, but the jaws clamped back over one of her legs.

"_OW!_" she said. "_Ow ow ow ow ow! OW! OW! OW!_"

Draco paced around the creature statically, staring incessantly at her sister. Ruriko's voice rose with each "_Ow!_" Phreeoni circled Draco precariously. Draco tried for an attack, and Oshi emerged from nowhere and followed suit. Phreeoni moved away, shaking it's head fiercely. Draco left her second self some way in front of it, and slammed her elbow into the thing's stomach; it fell back with a muffled shriek, shaking it's head very violently now – Ruriko swayed like a doll, swishing left and right too quickly at the wrong angle. A dull snap was heard soon, and a very shrill "_OW!_" erupted from the blur of movement. Chisel's axe belted across the thing's head, and it spluttered. The sage tumbled to the ground in tears, _ow_'s continuing. She picked up her leg – now a mess of red holes and bending the wrong way – gingerly with both hands. Hawk shot as many arrows as he could into Phreeoni's mouth. Taiken took up his song of mending again, which calmed the hunter somewhat.

He stared mildly as the mass of mauve went for him. He let Taiken's song relax him further, and prepared to move out of the way, very quickly.

Suddenly, a timid, very afraid, sweet presence edged into his mind.

_Don't worry,_ it told him, and he stopped worrying. He recognised it as Kyo. _I think they called this Marionette Control. Just trust me… please?_

He silently agreed, and felt her relief. He looked at Phreeoni again, and felt very sick. Phreeoni was something very capable of killing, but the thing in it's mind… a thing of malice. So bent on destroying everything. It had such a lustful determination to end life, and with a sadistic, inaudible roar, it promised his demise…

He stared at the creature, realizing this was not his own perception of it, but Kyo's. He felt a little numb by this revelation, but Kyo immediately told him to stay focused, and he soon had the impression of looking through two pairs of eyes. With his own, he saw Phreeoni run at him; with Kyo's, he saw Phreeoni lunge straight at him, and spin around to catch him with the tongue, and then an opening.. He felt his face fall into a strange frown, and stepped nimbly away from the lunge, and then swerve beneath the tongue. With both Kyo's and Alder's assurance, he seized his knife from his belt, and plunged it into Phreeoni's eye. He'd listen to it scream, but Kyo was much more interesting.

_So… it isn't swiftness at all?_

_No. I can see it before it happens._

_How though?_

_I don't know._

She was gone from his mind a second later, and he turned to see her, nursing a headache apparently.

Phreeoni staggered backwards, it's scream making a bladed wall of sound around it. It steadied itself, both of it's joint-less arms covering the now empty eye-socket. And then it…

It was gone.

Hawk gaped at the place it had been. There was a faint outline, which moved tensely into the shadows and became invisible. He looked to Alder, and the falcon flew forward with its amber eyes sharp and searching. Then he looked to others. Oshi and Draco exchanged glances, and concealed themselves with darkness and cloaked movements. Taiken drew his knife nervously. Ruriko ignited a spell of sight from where she sat. Kyo on the other hand…

She was following something with her eyes. Hawk immediately wished she was still inside his mind… she could see straight through it's Hiding…

She stared mildly at nothing. But Ruriko's sight spell was casting light on it, and Alder saw it too…

Kyo leapt out of the way and Phreeoni's tongue lashed out a second later. It roared in frustration and pursued her. She stepped lightly away from it's attacks, staring at places before they were hit. Five new dents trailed behind the fray of strikes and dodges; she swung both chakrams, one after the other, across the thing's face, and had sprinted away a second later.

It didn't have time to pursue, as Chisel's Hammer Fall spell came crashing down in a blaze of gold and heavy rumbling crashes. Oshi's katars sank into the thing's face, and were ripped through in a ferocious upwards swipe.

Phreeoni gasped. It ignored the assassin and the blacksmith, and staggered instead after Kyo. It was blind now – a clean, deep slit from a katar had just seen to that. It lurched onward, tongue dragging limply across the sand.

Kyo stared at it for a second. No mad, rolling eyes met her gaze, and with a sweeping movement of her arms, her chakrams flew deftly at the creature, striking it with a fleshy thud and a dull splutter of pain.

Oshi eyed it sardonically. He stood still, and Phreeoni continued it's lopsided, bleeding journey towards the dancer, very slowly. The assassin stood in it's path. With a swift, unseen movement, his leg swept around and crashed into the thing's head. It fell to the ground.

"_Why… End everything… I… Why…_"

Hawk was about to ask what it meant, but Oshi was kneeling down in front of it. The assassin made a clean slit down it's stomach. Black blood poured onto the sand, and Phreeoni's breathing became irregular and shallow. He sheathed his katars, and reached inside the creature with his bare hands. With a lot of effort, enough to emit a grunt of strain, he ripped something open with a cracking sound, and then rummaged around, apparently searching for something. Hawk felt bile rise up in his throat.

What Oshi was looking for was made clear a second later. Visible in one bloodied hand was a slowly beating heart, much larger than a human's and balanced carefully on the assassin's palm; there were thick, glistening black tubes leading back to Phreeoni. A small knife appeared from nowhere in his other hand with a metallic noise, and ploughed straight through the tubes. The strange black blood seeped out in dizzying amounts.

"It's very dead now," he stated flatly, discarding the heart on the ground. His arms were now black almost up to the shoulders.

Judging by the expression on everyone else's faces, they were having similar thoughts to the ones crawling across Hawk's mind: _I think I'm going to be sick…_

"Just make sure to wash your hands," replied Taiken, voice unusually faint.

-X-X-

Spectators had gathered in the quaint little Payonese village. It was situated in a pale cold valley, and the wind blasted through without remorse. Hunters in this region tended to tame larger falcons, like a peregrine.

The reason spectators had gathered was because of a duel that was threatening to take place between a barbarian and a sage. Bets flew around the crowd, all tilting in favour towards the barbarian, a muscled, brown-skinned man with a broad frame and a lot of height. The sage was a very slight woman, but she _had_ started the fight…

The thick-necked man-mountain barbarian considered the entire affair a matter of honour. The sage would have scoffed indignantly at the idea of this scuffle being a labelled a duel.

The barbarian had already drawn his sword, which wasn't especially dainty, and brandished it expertly at the sage as he growled, "I'll cleave you in two, you stupid whore."

The sage couldn't pour any more exasperation into the sigh that served as her response.

"Well," she remarked dryly, "you'll have to stop posing and come do it."

He had already proven himself an utter idiot. She had told him so, a little too bluntly, and a verbal exchange followed. He was wilfully ignorant of his lack of intelligence, though he was by no means the first unable to match her wit; she had a sharp tongue, an intelligent cynical mind, and when angered her brevity became icy.

There were few outside the high wizards and the professors who could speak the Language of the Making fluently, but this sage just happened to be one of the few. But of course, there was no way the barbarian could know that. Her name was Arche, and she had indeed been offered the title of Master of Yuno, but she declined, remembering her near-total lack of patience for the slow and unintelligent – an attitude that would certainly do no credit to a teacher.

Contrary to popular belief, she was not ice-orientated in her spell casting. The element she favoured depended on her opponent, her mood, and whatever hand she drew from her deck of Rodusha cards. She was an unusual magic user, in that she never channelled spells with a wand or a staff – she fought exclusively with cards, a slightly expensive habit, but she could never find a staff that she felt suited her.

She eyed her opponent distastefully; if the wind wasn't blowing so hard, she was certain he'd be emitting the most unholy stink. From her satchel handbag, she withdrew her cards, unwrapping them from their black silk den.

There was a pause as the reply registered. He readied his sword and sprinted at her. She was ready. Her chant flew with the wind and some cards hovered from her hand and flew into place around her. There were twelve, all bearing the stocky rune of _Naso_ (protection).

A card ripped itself in two, and a white shield untangled itself into a solid translucent wall. The barrier stopped the sword dead, and she didn't need to exercise much of her mental strength to keep it so.

When he didn't back away, she ordered the remaining cards to self-destruct. They darted at him, and burst into explosions of pearly flames. He took some time to recover. He was beginning to see, as was clear by the panic on his face, that he'd underestimated her. He had no idea who she was or what a sage could do.

It wasn't difficult to Soul Burn the barbarian – his mind was weak. Arche focused and found his soul quickly, and he was caught totally by surprise.

_Break!_ she ordered it. As she came out of focus, a sensation much like breaking the surface of water to breathe, she felt the distinctive sound of a broken mind, like a mirror being smashed.

In terms of ability, there was very little difference between the best wizards and the best sages. In terms of casting, however, they were very different. A wizard's magic was magic of the earth and the skies, of the connection of everything and balance. A sage's magic was magic of minds and matter, the source of strength and origin.

A personal favourite among the better sages was the technique known as the Soul Burn. The caster focused, and could find the "soul" – the part of living things that channelled spells – and they could attack it. They could deaden it. They completely incapacitate their opponent's ability to channel any sort of magic from an intricate rain spell to a basic swordsman's blessing of agility. No one was sure how the name "soul" had stuck. People still firmly believed that the soul was what inhabited a body, and gave it life and feelings. Arche had heard Orius muse that the "soul" and the soul were the same thing, and Arche had pondered the concept aimlessly more than once.

She opened her eyes to see the barbarian drop to his knees some few feet away from her. He cried and clutched his head as if he wasn't sure it was there. The Soul Burn wrought such devastation on its victims' mind that they often fell into sleepy dazes, became paranoid, fainted with fatigue, or were left incapable of human speech – it took at least a day for them to recover.

Arche took a step forward and knelt down in front of the barbarian. He sobbed like a child, and Arche listened to a cynical thought that flew over her mind: _They kill like men and die like boys._ One hand groped madly at the ground next to him, apparently searching for his sword. She wrinkled her nose disdainfully.

"Well, that was an empty threat, wasn't it," she said wearily. She looked around at the still crowds buffeted by cold winds, realizing they were watching her apprehensively.

She was about to tell them to move along, when a warp portal burst into existence some way over to her right. An upside down image of the church in Prontera from the ground was visible, a very disconcerting thing to see if ever there was.

A priest (newly appointed, probably) stumbled away from it as if one of his legs was at least six inches shorter than the other. His face was quite egg-like, and he wore an itchy-looking woollen hat and furry earmuffs. He straightened, and he became slightly less lopsided and considerably lankier.

He looked at Arche. Arche stared back at him. He blinked a few times, then fished for a piece of paper from his pocket, clenching it defensively against the wind with both hands. He would look at the paper, then look at her, look at the paper, look at her, look at the paper, her, paper, her, paper, her…

"Arche the sage?" he asked, obviously nervous.

"Yes?"

He dug into his pockets again, and drew out an envelope, which he handed to her hesitantly. The seal was stamped with a seven-pointed star with two wands crossed over it – it was from the Yuno Academy of Magic.

She groaned. She'd heard about Akiro's condition, and she had a very good idea of what the letter was about. Her suspicions were confirmed a second later when the priest closed the warp portal behind him.

Orius had written to ask if she would take over Akiro's duties, _just until he recovers_ he'd assured her repeatedly.

She sighed. She would not be a good teacher. But she couldn't refuse Orius when he needed her, and as desperate as he seemed to be right now – he had been like a father to her. And she was quite fond of Akiro.

She was also tired of wondering the wild, forest strewn Payonese mountains; the glowing cobbles of the white city would be a welcome relief.

"Righty-ho," she said to the priest, folding up the letter and depositing it into her bag. "Off to Yuno then."

-X-X-

Kyo woke in her comfortable bed in a cold sweat. She had hoped that the malice would leave her alone, but it still prowled after her in the night, haunted her dreams and left her feeling meek and dry. Consequently, she would wake up quite a lot earlier than the others. She would wander around the labyrinth, and both mornings ran into Draco, wary, narrow-eyed and clutching a dagger.

"Sorry," she said, visibly sighing with relief, "I don't know your tread very well yet."

Kyo blinked and told her it was fine.

She wasn't sure why, but Alder stayed with her during her solitary mornings. She really wanted to talk to Hawk. But he remained indifferent to her. In fact, he seemed afraid of her, if anything. She stared at the bird perched on her arm, and it turned to fix a glossy bronze eye on her face. She'd been convinced that the hunter thought of her as something different, that she'd found something different in him…

_Well, obviously, you were wrong, weren't you._

She placed her hand against her cheek. She'd asked him to the festival, he'd accepted, he'd enjoyed himself, and he kissed her goodnight on the right cheek at the end of it.

She sighed. She'd been caught in a nightmare that she was sure was real. She called for him, and he came, and everything was OK again…

_No… I don't think I was. There was something._

"So what did I do wrong?" she asked aloud. The falcon couldn't understand human words, so she didn't know why she directed the question at it. It continued to stare at her. It didn't understand the question, and couldn't give an answer.

Her village had been destroyed, and because he was there, she never had to think about it. He made things alright. Now things weren't alright, and he wasn't doing anything about it. She had some strange power that she didn't want. She'd lost the place she called home. She was haunted constantly by the thing that wanted to destroy the world. And now Hawk had just distanced himself from her.

It wasn't fair. She had been born in Arie, and therefore it was obligatory that the life she led would be boring, and totally without consequence. She would never see battle, she would turn eighteen in the spring, her mother would pick a husband for her, and she'd be happy or unhappy for the rest of her life. Either way, her mother would be there. She'd still laugh with her daughter, she'd still look after her daughter, and she'd even heal the tiniest little cut or sickness. Maia had taken all of the village children through every childhood disease, including the time the boy across the road had fallen out of the tree house. She'd even delivered most of them. And everyone had led their simple, happy lives in the shade of the Clock Tower. And now Kyo began to wish she'd been killed along with everyone else. Death was not a welcome relief, but it had to be easier than being the singled-out solitary survivor.

"Hey, you're up early!"

It was Ruriko, dressed in over-alls and a simple cotton t-shirt. She was as chirpy as ever (_thankfully_, a voice in Kyo's head whispered), despite the injury Phreeoni had done her. She wouldn't allow Oshi to snap her leg back into line (he shrugged, gripped his own wrist tightly, and with a visible _one… two… three_ had snapped it back into position, creating a loud "crack!" noise, several winces and even a wavy yelp from Taiken). She and Taiken had healed what they could carefully; they didn't have much success. Her torso and her leg were burnt from Phreeoni's saliva, and the cuts made by the teeth were quite deep. She walked with a limp.

"Yeah, she gave me the fright of my life earlier," replied Draco, with an affectionate smile.

Kyo couldn't help but smile back. "Of your life? I doubt it."

It had suddenly become customary that Kyo kept the sisters company as they prepared breakfast. She felt a bit selfish, as all she did was sit and talk as they worked. She offered to help, and they declined violently; she kept offering anyway, hoping to catch them off guard.

"Hey, Kyo, sing something," asked Ruriko cheerily.

Kyo blinked, and felt the colour rising in her face. It was OK to sing to herself… but her voice wasn't trained and was small. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," replied the sage, bewildered by whatever offence she had caused. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but your singing's so pretty."

"I'll just agree with Ruriko and wait for you to stop being humble," hummed Draco in her detached voice.

Kyo sighed, but not with exasperation. She serenaded the pair with whatever folk songs she could think of. She knew more than she thought she did. She still had the feeling that she didn't sound very nice, but Draco and Ruriko quickly contradicted her.

Breakfast, being the only fixed meal of the day in the guild, tended to be uneventful. They ate when they were hungry, and previously, this led to annoying late night raids of the kitchen; so Taiken decided that everyone should at least eat breakfast. However, there was a semi-serious debate passed through the table.

"I'm just wondering if we should write to the prince and ask him to send us a priest to warp us to Prontera," Taiken mused matter-of-factly.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea…" mumbled Chisel uneasily.

"Why not?"

"I'll say it's a hunch."

"We can't make Ruriko walk that far. And plus, he sent a priest to warp Draco and Ruriko to Comodo."

"Yes, but that was because the barons had stopped them from leaving."

"Actually, it was Hester, one of the High Priestesses," interjected Draco blandly.

"See?" sang Taiken. "No harm in asking for a priest, especially since we're doing the prince a favour, and our esteemed guild mistress is injured."

The esteemed guild mistress looked up from playing with her chopsticks in her bowl. "… What's going on?" she mumbled with her thumb in her mouth.

-X-X-

Daily routine… people said it provided a certain sense of security. Excel thought it was just boring. She got up, she went to school, she screwed up in new and spectacular ways, she gathered ingredients, she came home, was berated by her parents, and then she went to bed.

Tone could still beat her in little duels as well. He wasn't as strong, and he hadn't had the same level of training as she had, but he could still beat her. He was three years her senior, but that didn't really matter because he could beat most people in spars. He could just… handle himself a lot better than most. He had a very average build, bordering on lanky. His hair was thick and quite dark, his was face narrow and his eyes were hazel, the overall impression being of a cynical, nonchalant teen. He was a full alchemist, and was a little too fond of making bombs.

"Excel, put that mallet down," he said dryly. Excel pouted; she was trying to see how fast she could twirl it, and she thought she was doing quite well. "Hyatt, do you need to rest?"

"If you please," replied Hyatt, colour creeping into her face, which was a bit of a shock against her sickly pale countenance. Hyatt had always seemed rather taken by Tone.

They walked to the nearest tree and basked in the shade. Excel couldn't be more bored. She remained stood and pawed the ground lightly with her foot.

"Hey, Tone, could I try on your hat thing?" she asked hopefully.

"It's called a Majestic Goat," he replied, with a little resent. Nonetheless, he handed her the strange accessory, and she received it with slight astonishment; it was deceptively heavy. Tone looked a lot shorter without it.

"Whatever," she sighed, fitting it over her head. The surprising weight vanished somehow when the slightly extravagant headpiece slid into place. It was something like a helmet, but it didn't go over the forehead, and was shaped into a pair of quite large ram horns. "It's so damn cool! Where'd you get it?"

"Bought it from a blacksmith. He was my uncle, but I'm supposed to be learning the value of money or something, so I had to haggle for it," Tone recounted wearily; despite having been born into a merchant family, he wasn't particularly concerned with money. "He said he cut it off a goat demon. I asked him if he was scared, and he laughed and said no, because it was less than a foot tall."

"It must have had a very big head; how did it stand up?"

Tone made a little "pffft!" noise. "Well, my dad did a load of stuff to it; something about palladium and a great big fire."

He took the Majestic Goat helm back carefully, and repositioned it over his head.

"Hey, can we do something fun?" asked Excel suddenly. She realized it was a stupid question. She tapped the handle of her hammer on the ground. She took an apple from her backpack, then realized that she had no intention of eating it.

"Like what?"

Excel stared at the fruit's smooth, glossy surface, turning it over in her hand and staring at the block of colour. "We could go hunting somewhere, or something. Payon caves would be fun, if we had an acolyte to come with us…"

Tone had been to some of the Payon caves. "You get lost so easily," he said.

"Well, that doesn't matter." A light, pleasant squelching sound signalled a poring passing by. Excel knelt down, and waved the apple in front of it hopefully.

"I was stuck in there for days."

"Well, you've just got a rubbish sense of direction, haven't you. Anyway, I want to see a sohee."

Deep within the Payonese mountains, there were supposed to be beautiful creatures called sohees. According to good authority, they were pale, pretty-faced, black-haired, and looked human. They floated, and had ribbons in their hair, and they stared at people apprehensively with shining red eyes.

Tone hadn't seen one, and she knew he wanted to.

"Like you said, we need an acolyte," he murmured evasively.

"I know someone who could go with you," Hyatt interjected with her meek little voice. "Do you know Ghost?"

Excel knew Ghost. Tone didn't. Ghost was paler even than Hyatt, though it wasn't due to frailty of health. Ghost was actually quite active. She was pale because she didn't have any colour in her at all.

"She's an albino," Chisel had explained. "It means there's no pigmentation in her skin or her hair or her eyes."

This made perfect sense. The girl's skin was chalk white, as was her hair. Hence the name Ghost. She was peculiar, to say the least. She carried a cat doll with a red ribbon on its tail and a vacant expression with her at all times, and she kept it perched on her head. She also channelled spells with it. All of the above, Excel was absolutely fine with. However, Ghost talked to the doll, saying it was nicer than anyone she knew. The acolyte preferred the company of people she dreamed up than real people. Tone's cynical nature was nothing to hers. She was definitely the strangest acolyte ever.

Hunting with Ghost would not be pleasant.

Excel was obviously pulling a face about it, as Tone quickly said, "Oh, she can't be that bad, Excel."

"Oh, she's not bad or anything. She's just…" Excel paused, but she wasn't pausing to think; the poring had taken her bait, and was sucking at the apple with incessant slurping noises. "… really weird. You know, in a scary sort of way."

"She is a very unique acolyte," Hyatt allowed quietly.

"Well, as long as she can heal, bless, and warp us, I couldn't care less," Tone snapped with his arms folded.

"_Boo_!" said the poring. It was such a cute sound.

"Boo!" replied Excel. She loved porings. Its smile grew more benign, and it blew a raspberry as she prodded it.

"I wouldn't recommend trying to tame another one; remember what the last one did."

"Ah, this one's different."

She patted it on the head. She decided she wouldn't try and tame it, and turned around back to Tone and Hyatt.

"Hey, is your brother coming back soon?" asked Tone.

"I think so; he wrote a little while ago. He said he was in Comodo, but he would be coming to Prontera. He'll be here any day now."

"Awesome." Chisel, being eighteen, was closer to Tone's own age group, and so, being male, he was obligated to prefer Chisel's company to Excel's. Although Excel couldn't blame him; Chisel was the best person ever. "Did he say how long he'd be?"

"No, but I think it's like… official stuff, so he won't really have much spare time."

"Is it true that someone survived the Arie thing?"

"Yes, she's actually in the guild now. The God's Cry, I mean. Chisel says she's really sweet, and that Hawk has the hots for her."

"Hawk? Isn't he the hunter? I thought he was really grumpy…"

"He is. One of the grumpiest people on Midgard. Chisel's really happy about it; he said Hawk needs a break."

"I suppose he does…"

"He also said that Oshi's improving. I have no idea what that means though…"

"Oshi?"

"Oh, he's one of the barbarians. The _really_ grumpy one. Draco's the nice barbarian, Oshi's the quiet one."

Chisel had explained to Excel that Oshi and Draco were assassins, but she was not supposed to tell anyone. Excel only knew because she'd walked in on a rather awkward conversation. And Chisel made sure she realized that he would be extremely disappointed in her if she couldn't be trusted with the secret. The story was they were barbarians, one of the most common sort of people on Midgard. Traditionally, barbarians were swordsmen who didn't join the Pronteran Chivalry. It was very rare for a guild to have two assassins in it, and Chisel had said that there was a very good reason for it. He didn't explain it though, as neither Draco nor Oshi had explained why, and nor were they likely to.

Excel lost track of time very quickly, but as the trio rose to return to school, she noted that the poring hadn't left her side. True, it was asleep, but it was leaning on her leg.

-X-X-

High Priestess Hester was an impressive sight, in a pure, angelic kind of way. She was very beautiful, Ruriko decided. It was the way she smiled.

"Miss Hester," she called from the entrance of the labyrinth, "the prince won't care if my hair's a mess, will he?"

"The prince won't, but the barons will," Hester replied, "so it would probably be a good idea to comb it a bit."

"See, Ruriko? Hold still."

It had been years since Ruriko had done her hair herself. It was far too thick, and barely a few inches from the floor. So Draco took impeccable care of it, and when they had a schedule to keep, her bedside manner became merciless.

"Ow! Sis, you're pulling my head off!"

The mass of hair drooped bulkily down her back; Draco's rough beauty treatment made it temporarily free of tangles, and incredibly fluffy.

Ruriko pouted.

Hester smiled more broadly, though at what was unfathomable. She drew two blue gemstones from her pocket, and commanded them to make a mirror passage to Prontera Castle. They were thrown to the ground, and exploded like a wave crashing on a beach. The vaguely familiar image of upside-down Prontera rippled into view, and the rest of the guild looked towards Ruriko.

She groaned; she'd hoped she wasn't going first. She made her way carefully to the portal, so as to not have any more sharp pains shooting up her leg. This was somewhat of a challenge, as it meant that she couldn't let her foot come into impact with anything. She could either hop, or not let her leg leave the ground altogether, which resulted in her left foot doing lurching half-hops, and her right foot dragging after her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Hester looking concerned, and wished she couldn't.

It was very painful passing through the warp portal; it felt like she was falling through honey. She sagged in the cold darkness of the between, and her leg toppled after her, leaving her with the vague impression that it had snapped off. She was yanked jaggedly into a standing position, damaged limb shaking not quite in its socket.

She staggered away, mumbling "ow" on instinct. She felt her balance fail, and was immediately far too afraid to move her right leg. Deciding quickly that she'd rather land on her backside than her knees, she toppled back, landing a little quicker than she expected.

The gravel pinched through her gloves to her flat palms, and she arranged herself quickly to check that her underwear wasn't visible.

"This is so… bloody… annoying," she growled. What an understatement it was. It was long past the so-bloody-annoying category.

"Are you sure you're feeling up to this?"

She turned, a little strain tugging at her neck as she faced the sound. It was Taiken.

"I kinda have to be, don't I," she replied. Now that she thought, it seemed a tad unfair.

"We do need you… but if you're really not up to it…"

Draco came through next. "Is she alright?"

"I'm not sure that she should come with us," Taiken explained.

Ruriko felt a nerve snap. She didn't know why, but she did know that she didn't want to leave everyone else by themselves, or be excluded just because she wasn't particularly strong.

"I'm absolutely fine," she heard herself snap huffily. She rose to her feet as if she didn't have a care in the world. She had to fight back a wince. She didn't look at them, but she felt the bard and her sister exchange a glance.

The others came through without a word passing between any of them. Oshi came second to last. He took one look at her and said, "Stop putting on a front, Ruriko. You're not doing yourself any favours."

She pawed her Rodusha cards in her pouch menacingly.

Hester stepped through after. "This way, please," she said courteously.

The walk was agony, and Ruriko was limping by the time they'd passed through the first corridor, finding she didn't care anymore for this newfound little blazing streak of pride. She was considering starting to learn how to levitate when Draco suddenly appeared next to her, and her hand was quickly laced through her sister's.

She leaned heavily on the assassin for what seemed like hours. Then Hester was pushing open the throne room doors, and had strode straight through to take her place next to the prince, along with a blond knight and a man she recognised as Master Arne.

She entered, pride resurfacing, doing her best not to limp. She looked to see the barons, standing like storm clouds in their dark robes. They were all very tall. In fact, everybody seemed a lot taller. She wasn't sure why she hadn't been scared of the barons when she'd first seen them, but they were definitely scary now.

"Any particular reason why you couldn't just walk?" snapped one of them.

"Ruriko's leg's broken," replied Taiken cordially.

_I know!_ the sage thought with gritted teeth.

"Any particular reason why you didn't heal it?" another followed up in the same accusatory tones. They were doing it to make Ruriko feel bad, and she knew it was going to work.

"None of us are healers," Taiken said in the same inoffensive tone.

"May I have a look?" asked Hester timidly.

Everyone turned to Ruriko, who stared blankly at her spectators. "Uh… of course you can… miss."

The high priestess strode forward purposefully. Her face was still riddled with concern, which Ruriko found a little intimidating. She felt a lump form in her throat, and Draco squeezed her hand lightly.

"How did you break it?" Hester asked.

_Um…_ She wasn't sure.

"Picked up and shaken like a rag doll," Draco replied quietly.

"Oh, ow," Hester replied. She pressed a fist against the sage's knee experimentally, then felt around the bone, with noticeable force but not enough to merit an "ow." Ruriko stared at the priestess's blonde head for a little while, but there was a certain uneasiness about the place. It wasn't the barons watching her with distinct censure… it was…

She looked up to see Arne watching her with distinct interest. His eyes were sharp, and bright blue. They were really quite nice. She couldn't help but feel guilty at thinking that.

"Was this how it was when it was first broken?" Hester asked thoughtfully.

"Me and Taiken tried to heal it…"

"That's very dangerous," she interjected, obviously on impulse. "Only ever let an experienced healer tend to wounds. You've actually healed this wrong."

"You can heal things wrong?" The sage was quite bewildered.

"You're going to have to-…"

Hester didn't finish her sentence. It was quite clear Oshi had somehow anticipated her. Ruriko had been dimly aware of some background movement, but only when the assassin smashed his leg sharply into the back of her knee with all of the force he could muster did the impression really click. He had metal toecaps on his boots as well… It hurt in a sharp, cold, interesting way. The pain that exploded in her leg shot through her body in a steely storm. She shrieked, the agony stretching her voice to erratic pitches. Before she realized what was going on, a fireball chant swept from her mouth on instinct, and she threw the thing, overdone from panic, over her shoulder.

Several things happened at once. The fireball flew. Oshi ducked beneath it with not much in the way of surprise. Chisel yelped and threw himself out of the way. Ruriko toppled over onto her back. Arne had shouted a chant, and when the sage looked up, she saw that the crystal in his staff was emitting a dim glow that signalled that a spell was being cast somewhere. He'd caught the fireball with an incantation of his own. With expert swiftness, saint-like patience, and an almost motherly irritation, Hester repaired the newly damaged leg.

Ruriko stood up, expecting it to hurt. When it didn't, she smiled involuntarily. "Thanks!" she exclaimed. "That's great!" She was met with a humble you're-welcome.

"Do you think you could possibly disperse your fireball?"

It was Arne. Ruriko was immediately surprised to remember just how smooth his voice was. His face didn't alter as he spoke, and that was a little disconcerting. He just had her rooted to the spot with this steady, icy blue gaze.


	15. The Not So Ordinary Dancer and the Acoly...

Rawr! And here we are at last! Well, the next one could take some time; the coming week is going to be a hectic one. Well, I've kinda gone through the whole story and corrected some very silly things I did, and fixed a few typos. And, ohmigawd, thank you so much to all the people who reviewed. You guys make my day (sniff, weep). But yeah, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

_The Not So Ordinary Dancer and The Acolyte of the Dark_

Kyo was very afraid. Prontera Castle was a lot bigger than she thought it would be. She expected narrow, sparsely lit cobbled grey rooms with low ceilings…

_Huh… _she thought. _What an idiot._

Gigantic white walls crammed with decorations, all royal decorations. Paintings; not the beautiful, haunting, almost-animate panels in the school in Comodo, but harsh blocks of bright, bright colours. Blearing, bright colours, screaming from the walls. The furniture was stocky and dark, probably more for show than comfort. The cushions looked like they were silk, but Kyo was convinced that they would be as hard as rocks and as cold as ice.

The barons flanked the walls, making sure she knew that no one was welcome. Their robes were dark, and they stood tall and sure. They didn't need to do much to look menacing. They had many, many reasons to disapprove of her…

"Your own recent crisis was something quite similar to ours, was it not?" the prince asked. He put Kyo in mind of Draco – detached, but deceptively attentive. He had plain brown eyes that didn't miss anything. She saw him give the guild an assessing gaze. She wished that she had been with them longer, that she was something worthwhile and not some scruffy survivor from a naïve northern town. She also wished that Hawk wasn't standing on the other side of the group, and that he was affectionate with her, and that she could ask him… something. She didn't know what. And she didn't care, as long as she could talk to him again.

"Yes. Phreeoni, it called itself," replied Taiken. "Shall we go after the… golden thief bug immediately then?"

"I thought you'd want to discuss payment," the prince said with a slight smirk in his voice.

Taiken frowned and gave an awkward, mirthless laugh. "We weren't expecting any, though it would be nice…"

"Oh, let's just not get paid," Ruriko sighed, tapping the toes of her boots on the ground – left left, hop, right right, hop… "Less fuss, right?"

The prince laughed openly. Kyo was very decided that he was more frightening than he let on. "Unique bunch, aren't you?" he chuckled, almost bordering on amiable. Kyo still didn't trust him. "Are you quite sure you want to leave immediately?"

Taiken looked around. Hawk, Oshi, Draco, Chisel… he stopped when he reached Kyo, frowning lightly… then Ruriko.

She had ceased her toe-tap routine, and was pawing the ground sheepishly. "Could I possibly have a loaf of bread?" she asked awkwardly. "It doesn't have to be a big loaf or anything, but I missed breakfast, and…"

The prince was somehow caught off-guard by the question, but the sage was soon devouring a warm, unbearably delicious smelling loaf with feminine daintiness.

As she ate, the prince decided to start expressing his interest in them. "Any ideas what this Phreeoni is? You all seemed to be able to get rid of it without too much trouble."

"We had a vague idea about what we were up against," Taiken allowed humbly, "but no real troubles. Ruriko frightened us a bit though…"

Ruriko became quite mesmerised by her little meal, and deaf, it seemed. Kyo noted the colour creep into her face.

Phreeoni was just… an empty shell. They all were. The thing to worry about was the thing inside… Kyo seemed to be the only one who saw that. She didn't know how she understood it, but she didn't want to understand it. She didn't want to sense the things she could feel. She would never have admitted it before, as any woman who thought this had to have something very wrong with her… all she wanted was for Hawk to be the way he was before. Before she did whatever it was she did that changed him. If only she knew… She felt like a pit of sighs.

She didn't want to be in this place, exposed, and where she would never be welcome.

She wanted to run.

_You can run,_ a voice that was not hers hissed gallantly.

She was so close to screaming. A silent gasp, and a feeling that something was very, very wrong…

She craned her neck slowly around. That was the only place the voice could have come from. Behind her, where she couldn't see it, and she would be unprepared…

Her eyes said there was nothing there. An empty, richly decorated hall, with a suddenly gaping empty space. Very empty. Very nothing.

But there was something there…

_Do not be afraid._

She stared at the space. Her stomach went numb and her limbs shook. It took a lot of thought to remember to breathe deeply, and slowly…

_I won't hurt you,_ it lied with tender reassurance.

She had to stop listening to it… _Go away, go away, go away…_ Surely, if she just turned away, it shouldn't attack her. But it would. It was angry. Very angry. Everyone else seemed so far away, in their own little conversation in their own little world of humans.

She wanted to run, but where would she go?

Where was everyone else…?

"Kyo?"

_Don't trust them._ The voice rasped, clicking instantly at the sound of a human voice. Who'd called to her? She didn't recognise them. She turned to face the person, surprised to find her vision searing out of focus. The world swam groggily in front of her, seeing everything as if it were underwater.

A deep sigh swam around her. It took her a second to realize it was her own breathing. The world fell into a husky haze of anxious faces and blearing walls.

She recognised the steely grey of Oshi's eyes. A swoop…! A blur… and the assassin's bland face became visible.

"Kyo?" he said again.

Her head hurt a lot. "What is it?"

She didn't receive an answer; Oshi was prodding Taiken in the arm… _Oh no, Oshi, please…! Please don't cause a fuss…don't make them notice me…_

"I'm not sure we should leave immediately." He addressed the whole room. In response, Taiken looked around to Kyo, and she tried to meet his gaze with indifference. And failed.

"Kyo, are you OK?" he asked as if he already knew the answer.

"Yes," she said. She tried to frown, as if wondering where such a question could have sprung.

"You look very ill."

She'd never felt words sting quite like that. It felt as if her heart had turned to lead and was trying to sink out of her chest. She knew a second later that she had winced. She stood rigid, and after a few seconds in which she almost recovered her poise, she replied, "Really?"

Taiken's frown deepened. He looked over to his right, where Kyo noticed Draco was stood.

A thin hand was pressed flat against her forehead, and she nearly reached for the sucasmad at her waist. However, it was the high priestess.

The woman frowned also. Never in her life had Kyo wanted more to just disappear and pretend nothing had happened. A hole opening up in the ground… _anything_, as long as she got out of there. She was afraid of a lot of things, a room full of people staring at her being one of them. Her hands were clenched into fists, and on her right index finger was the ring Chisel had given her, the one that gave her the power to teleport. Ruriko had explained it briefly…

"Fever?" asked Taiken.

"… Not really," replied Hester carefully. "She's freezing. As if she's been… dead for a while."

Kyo's foot was in the process of taking a step back. She couldn't tell these people her troubles… what she sensed…

What atrocity had she dug herself into? She suddenly became aware of the sweat prickling dryly at her scalp, and a lump in her throat that she had to swallow. She grit her teeth, and with a final effort ending with the promise that she wouldn't be the centre of attention anymore, she burst out cheerily, "I'm really feeling fine! Please do not worry yourself over me."

The first sentence was one of the most horrible lies she'd ever told, and the second was spluttered with bitter sincerity.

x-x-x

Hawk wasn't fooled. He wasn't expecting her to tell the truth, but… she lied. It was a bare, blunt lie.

He tried to remind himself not to be so resentful about it – it was probably largely his fault that she was in such a state. It took a lot of focusing to stop his eyes from widening; her face was quite an unnatural colour, and her eyes were wide and wary, even more so with her false content. She looked tired. Even her hair was limp around her face and sagged in its braid.

He couldn't look at her without the distinct feeling that he should be crying. In the process of turning around, he met Taiken's viciously quizzical gaze that informed him that the bard didn't believe her either.

"If you please, could we possibly not leave immediately-immediately?" Taiken said with carefully conditioned detachment. "I think we'd actually like to see around the palace. I know for a fact that Ruriko loves looking around huge places like this, and making a bit of a prat of herself in the process…"

Hawk made a quick, silent thank you to whoever it was that listened to people's prayers for Taiken's gift with people. The focus was quickly displaced, and the room became easy and smiling once more.

"Taiken, you big fat liar!" squealed Ruriko indignantly.

Tristan made a small, indifferent "pffft!" noise, and told them, "Mooch around as much as you want."

Ruriko proceeded to make a prat of herself; she leapt in the air once with a happy yelp, and had taken off down one of the passages, Draco striding with a brisk, domineering presence, and a horrified glance was passed through the line of barons.

Taiken and Chisel exchanged grins. "Come along, impish," Taiken said, beckoning to Oshi. The assassin followed without a word, and they were gone.

Of course, the bard had done this on purpose, but at this point Hawk really didn't care. There was something wrong with Kyo, and he _was_ going to do whatever he could to help. He caught her eye and beckoned for her to follow. He detected bafflement on her face.

He was fairly baffled himself – he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Or what was going to happen. He found, much to his surprise, that he really didn't care, as long as Kyo was feeling better at the end of it.

He walked as quickly as he could to an outside area. She walked behind. He tried stopping to let her catch up, but she just stopped as well. She avoided his eyes.

Alder was informing him that the grounds were really quite beautiful, and the hunter was eager to explore them. There were courtyards all over the place, and it was easy to find one. He held the door open for her, and she stepped past him meekly.

They were immediately stood in summer's dying sun, weeping its silver rays to brighten the slow soft wind. The sky was white and the wildlife was shivering from its bright jade green into cold brass.

He turned to address Kyo. He took a breath, when a little bird appeared in front of his face. Alder, apparently, was in the process of introducing the area to him. He asked the falcon why, holding up a hand for the new little bird. It couldn't hurt to be sociable, Alder replied nonchalantly.

"It can hardly have escaped your attention," he began to the dancer, trying to keep his voice bland, "that we need to talk."

She looked at him with a calm, searching gaze, actually allowing him to make eye contact. She broke it a second later.

"I know," she replied, in equally flat tones.

The little bird took off – she had little ones to feed. Hawk held out his hand, and the dancer took it. A small, rocky stream clapped cheerfully somewhere close by, the constant trickle of water icy and clear. The trees stood like columns, with thick dark foliage. He led her around a little path.

"As harsh as it seems, I'm afraid that there is definitely something troubling you, and you aren't doing yourself any favours by pretending that there isn't," was the first thing he said.

She stiffened, and sighed.

"I'm sorry I've been all… distant," he said. He would've sighed as well, but he had to finish his sentence. "But I do have a reason for being so; it seems selfish, now that I think about it. But I'm not being distant now, OK?"

For a short while, the crackle of cold grass, the sharp shrill birdsong and the flow of the mystery stream were the only things that could be heard.

"Do you remember when you and I were sharing minds? In the fight against Phreeoni?" she asked. She sounded tired. He replied in the affirmative. "You saw that there was… something possessing it. The thing that hates…"

"Hates? Why?"

"I don't know. It's angry. But… these monsters… the Lord of Death, Phreeoni, the thing in Gonryun, this golden thief bug… there are others, but really, they're just empty shells. It's… They can be possessed. That's what they were made for. But the thing possessing them… well, you've felt it."

Hawk remembered. It stormed right through his mind with its bleak determination. It promised the destruction of Midgard, and his own very painful death…

"And you sensed it when we were fighting Phreeoni, and you're scared of the golden thief bug?"

"Oh, they're nothing to worry about. They're just empty shells." She took a deep breath, and slowed down slightly. He became aware, suddenly, that her hand was limp and cold. Hester was right… she felt dead…

He turned to face her, to make sure she was still there. The thought of Kyo, dead, was too vivid and… horrible, just plain horrible.

"The malice… it's searching for me, and I don't know why." She shivered as she said it.

"Is it the… foresight? Is that how you can tell?"

"Sort of, but… it's trying to take over my mind. Look, I know it sounds really stupid," she burst out suddenly. Hawk jumped. "But it's making me feel so scared, I don't know how to get rid of it. I don't know where to run."

She was staring at him full in the face. She was staring at him with her bright violet eyes, pleading and voice cracking with tears. The previously limp hand was now clinging, tight and shaking.

"No, it isn't," he said, a little louder than he meant. He caught her by the waist, and brought her into a hug, though he couldn't think of a less appropriate thing to do. She didn't seem to care, as she threw both her arms around his middle and held onto him as if scared that she would simply fall out of existence. "It isn't stupid," he told her firmly.

She may or may not have been listening. She was shaking badly. Both her hands clenched the back of his shirt desperately, and she took deep shuddering breaths against his chest. It tickled a lot. A prickle of water told him that she was crying.

Alder, sensing her agitation swooped down to join both her and Hawk. The falcon crooned a soft, low note that he'd never heard before. He had absolutely no idea what to do or say, and was beginning to regret asking her. What kind of help had he expected he would be?

He gripped one of her shoulders in a desperate attempt to make her shaking subside slightly, and the other pressed her head closer to him. _Shhh_… he told her, _Everything's OK_… He told her again and again, until the words flowed of their own accord. The birds, the wind, the constant crackle of rustling leaves… it was so empty. He absent-mindedly stroked her hair, simply because it felt so soft, and didn't know what he was saying.

But slowly, miraculously, the endless trembling stopped. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, regular, slow, and deep. Her body simply relaxed, as long as he kept up his whispered mantra of _Shhh, everything's OK_.

The world rocked the couple gently in their iron cradle. She was still and cold, clinging to him as if her life depended on it.

_Shhh, everything's OK…_

"Why did you change?"

The question really took him by surprise. She raised her face to meet his eyes with her own. The hand that had held her head moved to her cheek, but he didn't know why. In a dream-like state, he lightly brushed away her tears, still carving dark channels down her features. Her eyes had somehow lost their brightness, and were now a deep, silky, woeful lavender tone. Her hair drooped and clutched her face like a fist. Her lips, like her eyes, had lost their colour, no longer the soft pale red. Her complexion was blotchy and tear-streaked…

And somehow it didn't matter. She was still beautiful.

"I was scared," he replied. It sounded stupid, a voice in his head was kind enough to inform him, but at least it was the truth.

"I didn't do anything wrong then?"

"Absolutely not."

The way she smiled at his reply both heartened and alarmed him. He wouldn't admit to himself why though.

"Well, to the important bit of business," he said, trying to not think about… what he wasn't going to admit just yet, "you're feeling better?"

"Much better."

He had sudden flash of inspiration. "Kyo? I know this is really random and everything, but…" He took out his knife, which made her frown. Wrapped around the handle was a black ribbon. He'd practically forgotten it was there, but it was actually a necklace. He unwrapped it, and carefully cocooned in the ribbon was a little heart-shaped jewel, carefully cut and rosy pink. "I'd really like for you to have this," he said, holding out the little pendant, which sparkled as the sunlight trickled through.

She smiled, her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Should I be slightly concerned as to why a man just happens to be carrying around a very feminine necklace?"

He just smiled back. He didn't know why he kept it himself… "It used to belong to my mother."

The violet eyes lit up, though the rest of her face was kept under control. "I'll keep it if it makes you happy," she said, a little faintly. She turned and held her hair above her neck; he took the signal, and with a little _click_ of the silver clasp, the rosy heart lay over her chest and the black ribbon was making a lovely contrast with her pale neck.

A memory was spiralling into a blur in his mind. It had no one scent, no one sound, and no one place. Where had his mother got this necklace…? Part of him knew, and wasn't telling. There was a very special reason why he'd just given it to Kyo, but he didn't know what it was.

In fact, he'd only remembered a few minutes ago that he even had it. When had he taken it?

And why hadn't he realized before just how messed up his memory was?

"This place is quite pretty, isn't it?"

He'd have forgotten where he was if Kyo hadn't suddenly spoken.

"Yeah. Alder says the rest of the grounds are even nicer."

"Well," she said, in a firm, happy tone, picking up both his hands with hers, "I shan't be happy until I have seen them."

She was smiling again. Her hands still felt cold, but the lavender eyes were vibrant with life again. Never in his life had Hawk felt such relief. He stopped thinking of his mystery past, because, quite frankly, there were more important things in the world.

The not so ordinary dancer, for example.

-X-X-

"Jigan, be reasonable."

"I know it's strange, but I'd just prefer it if we could keep Akiro here." Jigan _was_ trying to be reasonable, but even he realized how stupid he sounded.

"I understand that you miss him," said Marius gently, "but consider Akiro's take on this. The academy _is_ his home, but it's his place of work as well. You know him much better than I, but I know him well enough to see that when he is incapacitated, as he is, he isn't going to want to be sat doing nothing in his place of work amongst those who respect him." Jigan made no reply, and after a pause, Marius prompted him, "Do you see what I'm getting at?"

Marius said it was a great strength to admit being wrong. "Yes," Jigan sighed back. Marius was never wrong.

The champion surveyed him carefully with his inhuman tranquillity. "We'll take good care of him, and you can visit whenever you wish. I understand that you're all worried about him."

"It's just… he did a very brave thing, but he'll be kicking himself about it…"

"Yes, he's a terrible perfectionist."

Marius had an infinite capacity for calming peoples' worries. Jigan was almost a little miffed at no longer having an excuse to be grumpy. He felt better.

He didn't have time to dwell on it, as the unhurried footsteps of someone wearing heels were pounding damply down the stone passage. The school had its fair share of students out of bed in the middle of the night, but they were normally up for long silent study periods in the library. None of the students were troublemakers – learning magic required a focused and sensible mind – and the last thing Jigan wanted to do was discourage them. He was supposed to thwack them around the head with a large blunt object, and send them back to bed with a lecture to dwell on. He did this to a certain extent; he tapped them on the head with his fist, gave them whatever book they were trying to read, and told them to at least study sneakily behind his back in their own room where he wouldn't catch them.

But none of the students wore heels, and the only one of the Masters who did was Fieri.

But it wasn't Fieri; it was Arche.

Jigan could hardly believe it – he hadn't seen Arche for four years, when she was fifteen. Her hair had been long and a dull brown, and she had been quite podgy. Now there was a new slimness to her body, and it wasn't just the extra foot or so added to her height; suddenly, there were sharp narrow features on a sharp narrow face. She was bony and slight, with a healthy tan and new burst of freckles over her nose. Her hair was short and light brown; it flicked out at odd angles around her shoulders, even more so because of the plain dark grey bandana tied around her forehead. A slim pair of glasses was perched icily on her nose, making little white rings around pale blue eyes. A thin robe of jade-green silk was tied lazily at her waist, emphasising what little shape there was to her hips.

The only inclination to say that this woman wasn't any ordinary sage was the turbulent calm that stewed the air around her and the deep dark accusatory gaze that mirthlessly said, "confidence."

"How's it going," she sighed as she reached them.

"So-so. How are you?"

"Hungry, tired, not especially chirpy, got into a few more scuffles than I meant to." She sighed again.

"You're not happy about taking this job," said Marius with his all-knowing tone. He stared her straight in the eye, and she stared back.

"No, I'm not," she replied evenly. "I'm going to be such a rubbish teacher."

"You don't know that."

"Well, let's say I do. Where are the other Masters? Having a late night contemplating existence binge in the retirement room?"

"Um… yes."

"I think it's a bit unfair, this little bit of hypocrisy surrounding late night wanderings; you know, when I was a student here, Orius hit me across the head with that old oaken staff, because I was trying to get a book out of the library. I still have the bump from that…"

"Well, apparently I'm incredibly lenient," replied Jigan happily as Arche gingerly pawed the back of her head.

x-x-x

Arche was feeling very nostalgic. The retirement room door swung slowly open, and brassy firelight poured out. The smell of burning wood and musty books swam to greet her warmly like a lullaby. The warmth and her heavy aching feet carried her towards one of the tall stocky red chairs, and she toppled into it with a light yawn.

"Arche," proclaimed Orius, his voice as warm as the fire. Her cheek was brushed with his vague dry kiss, which she returned drowsily. "I hope you are well?"

"I am."

"And you're absolutely sure you're willing to fill Akiro's post?"

Arche gave a small, dry chuckle. "I'm absolutely sure. But I can't guarantee sparkling results."

"I was thinking of asking one of the high wizards… the barons are eager to be rid of them as soon as possible…"

"It's difficult for wizards to teach sage magic," Arche said with a slight sigh. "Also, the high wizards are still quite distraught."

"I was going to take all but one of the high wizards to Gonryun Sanctuary," mused Marius nonchalantly. "Pridith and Jiro need medical attention, their mental health isn't really in peak condition… and Elle is my daughter."

"And Arne?"

"Arne and the prince have become good friends. I believe neither would benefit if they were moved away from each other."

"Doesn't he need medical help? If the others…"

"Oh, he needs it," the champion replied in the same even tone, "but there's nothing I can give him that the prince can't."

Too soon, Marius was bidding his farewells and wishing Arche good luck, and with a teleportation chant and a flash of crystalline blue light, he was gone, and the focus was back on the woman slumped wearily in her chair. She answered the others' questions in as few words as possible. Jigan asked what she meant about getting into more scuffles than she meant to, and she recounted her argument with the idiot barbarian from that afternoon – she was surprised when they laughed. She couldn't be bothered to ask why or be indignant.

"I can talk you through your duties, or if you're too tired we can wait until the morning," Orius offered kindly.

"No, I'm not tired," she lied. She'd been woken up in the middle of the night by a storm, having almost slept an hour or two under a tree by a very noisy river, so she got up and had to keep a heat barrier to keep herself dry while she looked for a village of some sort for several hours until it stopped raining and then she stumbled into one around lunchtime, got into a fight, warped to Yuno and spent the rest of the day tramping around the vast bustling city restocking her dwindling supplies.

Whatever energy she had left fizzled out with a friendly wink. The chair was so comfortable, the room felt like hot bath, and then there was the merry crackle of the fire and the deep hum of Orius's voice… Her eyes slid closed. The world was a lot easier that way. A second later, she heard Orius's mountain-like laughter.

"Just like having Akiro back; honestly, put him anywhere you like, and he has this strange ability to just fall asleep _anywhere_…"

-X-X-

Robin was a blonde girl with bright eyes and shoes that were too big for her. She was born in Payon and raised in Amatsu. Her mother's Payonese cousin had named her, because her mother had lost a bet.

She'd grown up with the names Robin and Curiosity. As a girl, she developed an unfortunate habit of chasing frogs. At the age of five, she followed one to a rather remote river, which looked clear and calm enough. Leaning far over the bank and pawing the stepping-stones, she forgot something very important – namely checking just how far she was leaning over. Needless to say, she fell in. She was washed downstream with frightening swiftness. For someone who hadn't yet learnt to swim, this was a confusing and terrifying experience. A crusader had been passing, and he told her later that he'd heard her screams, to which she insisted that she wasn't screaming. In a stunning display of speed, he stripped off his armour, dived into the river, and he carried back to town, where he was met with applause and thanks, and she was met with lectures.

This little event in her life led to her nickname and the beginning of her dream of becoming a swordsman.

She was hunting in the Payon caves, with a band of friends. There were four of them – Robin Aska the swordsman, Ghost the acolyte, Mikoto the mage, and the solitary and slightly frightened boy, Dante the archer. Dante was somehow enjoying himself, despite the fact that Mikoto and Ghost ganged up on him in silent raging storms, and Robin would usually accidentally join in. He was a frail little lad with neatly combed hair, which he did his best to mess up. He had the characteristic blue Payonese eyes, but they were unnaturally wide.

Mikoto's class had been allowed out of school for a little while. She tried to explain how the Yuno Academy teaching system worked, but when she was met with blank stares, she huffed angrily, picked up her staff and set off deeper into the mountains by herself. Robin knew better than to leave an inexperienced magic user by themself, and padded after her.

Mikoto was eleven going on thirty-five. She was a haughty, unpleasant sort of girl, with a condescending dark blue glare from narrow heavily lidded eyes. Her hair was pulled into immaculate black pigtails in front of her shoulders by thick silver clasps. Her calmness was icy and her temper was stormy.

Then there was Ghost… Robin turned to see the acolyte holding her little black cat doll in front of her face, chattering faintly with her strained smile. The only time Ghost ever smiled was when she was talking to that doll. Robin felt sorry for her, but listening to other people's conversations, she soon found that she was only with enough compassion to be so.

"Well, you stupid man, why don't you scout ahead?" Mikoto's blade-like order made Robin jump. Dante knew better that to allow the mage's temper to spill over, and so started off down the narrow passage, throwing a sighed, "Yes, Mikoto," over his shoulder as he went.

"Don't be too long," Robin warned him.

They were currently in the process of finding their way out of the mountains. It was getting pretty dark, and Ghost and Mikoto were taking turns in igniting spells of sight. They were quite deep into the mountains. Mikoto sat down wearily, and Robin followed suit. Ghost stayed stood. The little ball of bright blue light flew to her cupped hands, and she held it some way ahead of them. It was a crossroad.

"When we set off again, which way should we go?" asked Mikoto.

Robin flipped a coin and said right. Ghost said she had a bad feeling and suggested left.

The atmosphere was dank and shadowy. It was colder inside the caves than it was outside. An underground river trickled icily somewhere. Ghost leaned over a well and peered into it.

"What do you think?" she asked her doll. She listened to the silence. "Yes, exactly what I think… No good…"

Mikoto groaned and rolled her eyes. Ghost ignored her. Robin played with her duel swords.

Dante returned a couple of minutes later from the right-hand passage. He had his bow drawn and notched. He'd run, it seemed, as he was quite out of breath.

"Anything to report?" asked Mikoto, not showing a shred of concern for his safety.

"Are you alright?" asked Robin, holding her weapons still.

The archer paused, frowning in what could only be fright. "Ah… depends by how you mean that…"

"What is it?" demanded Mikoto.

"Well… there was this lady. She wore a big red hat, and she had this talisman over her face so I couldn't see who she was… well, she saw me and… she's following me…"

"That's Munak."

"I beg your pardon?" spluttered Robin. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but…

"A legendary dark priestess in training," Ghost replied blandly. "She-…"

"Can we please just be making scarper plans?" panted Dante desperately. It was the first request of his that they followed through without question. They turned instantly and hurtled down the left-hand passage. Ghost ran in front, with the azure spell of sight illuminating the place into a murky, swamp-like terrain.

"When can we stop?" called Mikoto from the rear of the group, every other syllable accented with a thud as her feet hit the ground.

"She's still following us," Ghost informed them.

"Whoa, let's take a break quickly!"

The acolyte stopped immediately, and Robin brought the other two to a halt. Mikoto nursed a stitch in her side with a sigh of pain. Dante clearly wanted to be moving on very quickly.

"Ghost, you know about this Munak person," Robin panted as evenly as she could. "Tell us about her. Not the legend," she interjected as the acolyte took a breath, "her fighting abilities. Quickly."

"She is a dark acolyte. She can teleport accurately. She can use shadow-element attacking spells. Her protection barriers will be flawless."

Robin blinked, now in a bit of a daze. "But if we were to turn around and attack her, would we stand a chance?"

"No."

"… Really?"

"We wouldn't stand a ghost of a chance. We are weak."

The swiftness of the reply stung. This wasn't good. Munak's tale dated back hundreds of years ago. If it was indeed Munak who was following them, then she either had to be immortal or a walking corpse. Flawless protection barriers… they couldn't harm her. Accurate teleportation… they couldn't run. Shadow based magic… they had no defence against that. And they couldn't get out of the mountains – they hadn't seen any other people for quite a while, they must've been in a very remote part. Where was the exit? And even if they found it, was there any guarantee that Munak couldn't follow?

"Ghost, can you warp us out?"

"I don't know all of the incantation, and I have no gemstones."

Robin nodded stiffly. She would really like to shrivel up into nothing, as long as she didn't suffer a very painful death my Munak's hands.

"She approaches," Mikoto said, with the look on her face that suggested that something had suddenly been made clear to her. "We must make haste."

They started on another agonising sprint. _What am I supposed to do?_ The sight spells danced haphazardly, making the environment jagged and unclear. Robin could barely see the ground in front of her. The darkness looked solid. The words "accurate teleportation" loomed across her vision.

_We are weak._

They burst through a muddy arch into a vast space – the light wasn't thrown over any walls. Just how big it was remained unknown. It felt miles wide, every inch of it aching to be occupied.

_Pat pat pat pat pat…_ No more than a few steps before everything spiralled out of control. The air shook with bright blue light. _No… not that…_ Everyone knew what a teleport spell looked like.

A bright red acolyte's robe emerged, and as the spell died it became a murky scarlet colour. Munak wasn't immortal. She was very clearly not alive. Her arms drooped at her sides. She was tall. The talisman hung like a noose from the enormous red hat; it hid her features, but white skin from years of darkness and death peered from around it.

The most disconcerting thing was the way she moved towards them. She didn't seem to be doing any movement herself. She floated a few inches from the ground. She levitated towards them.

"Oh no…" The gasp erupted from Robin. Shivers were knifing her spine with metallic cackles. "We really don't stand a chance against her?" Surely, fate couldn't be so cruel. There was such a thing as mercy, wasn't there?

"We do not," Ghost replied with no hint of emotion. "_Issen a-yu stai_."

A Holy Light spell grew bright white and exploded some way in front of Munak. A barrier boiled with a dark blue tone.

There was a moment's hesitation amongst the group. After a second, Robin took her place at the front of the group, clenching her swords with something a lot deeper than fright. Munak did not hesitate.

"_Tari fo-yu stai_," replied Munak in a soft, feminine voice. There was nothing in her tone. Nothing. Robin had never heard the incantation. Something black erupted in front of her and exploded. It burnt, and she blinked blood out of her eyes.

The swordsman grit her teeth and swung her right sword around in front of her, and she met a barrier. It was very solid. Munak closed in.

Her fright flashed in front of her eyes and she leapt back. Shards of ice flew from over her shoulder, like something from a dream. The ice struck the very solid outer-barrier, the cold struck one behind that, and the magic struck one behind that. Mikoto threw her hands over her mouth.

Dante fired an arrow. It should've hit Munak's shoulder, but it stopped at the barrier, and fell to the ground. It suddenly looked so much more like a stick and a bit of metal and much less like an arrow.

Munak loomed ever closer. Robin stumbled away. Another Holy Light crashed into a barrier. A silver-tipped arrow bounced off another. A trail of ice erupted from the ground, making a path that stopped some way from the dead woman. Munak didn't stop.

Robin took a few steps back, wondering what to do. She was about to turn around and run; then that beautiful voice spoke again: "_Tari fo-yu stai_."

She tried to dodge back, but the blast caught her in the chest. Her armour took the shock, so she wasn't hit. But she stumbled as if a hammer had smashed into her chest, tripping over a thick dead branch, and the air was knocked out of her lungs.

The world spun. Her mind screamed. If she didn't get her breath back and get back up again now, Munak was going to catch her and Munak was going to kill her.

_Munak is going to kill me. I'm going to die._

Robin shot into an upright position, gasping dry air. She looked up and found a pair of pretty, almond-shaped eyes, heavily lidded, drooping with fatigue, and staring at her ruthlessly. A dead glare.

She saw something move from somewhere, and saw Munak's gloved hands rise jaggedly into the air. Robin threw herself to the side, and saw the corpse's hands close on thin air. She felt considerably more fragile.

Munak turned, and floated away from her. Robin stared. Someone was being very kind to her… But Munak was moving for Dante.

The archer stared as the woman in red closed the gap between them with every desire to kill him. It wasn't even desire… it was obligation. He stood, shaking visibly, even in the terrible light. He screamed. He ran.

Munak whispered something nonchalantly. In a wave of blue, she disappeared. She reappeared again in a ceremony of bright azure. Robin saw several things before the light of the spell died away. She saw Dante run and almost stop in a shadowy enclosure. She saw Munak appear in front of him and look down at him. She saw Dante run into Munak's hands. She saw gloved hands seize Dante tightly around the neck. She saw Munak lift Dante into the air. She saw Dante retch.

And then it was dark.

The archer still screamed. There was a frantic swishing of someone wearing cotton thrashing violently. The screaming waned dramatically into a gulp. The gulp became a weak groan that stretched throatily.

The cave was in darkness. Where was Mikoto?

"Mikoto! Light a spell again! I need to help him!"

A little moan noise edged between the rocks a little way behind her. It was clear enough that it meant no.

"Mikoto! Do it!"

The same moan noise followed.

She was about to hail Ghost, but the acolyte was already shouting a chant that wasn't a spell of sight…

Ghost disappeared in a wave of blue light.

She'd teleported away…

Robin couldn't move for a second. The only sound in the cave was the tune of Dante's desperate struggle for breath. Then something sank in. Something penetrated Robin's mind: _She left us._

_She abandoned us._

"_NO!_" Robin screamed, but she couldn't scream it loud enough. "_She left us! That filthy backstabbing bitch! Heartless! How could she!_"

Robin shrieked. It wasn't fair. Shrieking wasn't enough. She was lost deep within the Payonese mountains. Munak was killing her friend. Ghost had abandoned her. She was going to be killed.

A thing she really didn't want to hear brought her to silence. There was a last, strangled gasp that didn't reach his lungs, and the noises of Dante's struggle stopped.

Dante was dead, and either she or Mikoto was next.

"What do I… How… Help…" She wanted to scream again, but her voice had fled. Mikoto's spell of sight flooded the cave again. She could see Munak heading towards her. Anger throbbed painfully in her head. She spun around to find the mage, disgustingly pale, clutching her staff like a doll.

Indignant. Angry. Swirling like a storm. "_Why didn't you do that before_?"

"I couldn't," Mikoto snapped back, though without any trace of her previous calmness.

Munak was very close. She didn't seem to be at all effected by the fact that she had just throttled a ten-year-old archer to death. She just gazed at her next target.

Robin stared. She had to do something. She wouldn't just sit idly like Mikoto. If Munak could grab Dante through those barriers, then she could counter. Munak was quick though…

Without any warning, the dead woman's hands were raised again, and they'd be around Robin's neck in a split-second…

With a shout, the swordsman brought both swords across Munak, making two slices in the woman's torso. This had no effect. Robin grunted in frustration. She could fight. Calling on hidden reserves of strength, she swung her leg as high and as hard as she could. This knocked Munak's head to the side slightly. A little shock in her brain told her to, so she picked up the branch where it still lay by her ankle. It was heavy, more of a log than a branch. She smashed it into Munak's head, and heard a crack. She smashed again, and again… she didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know what her arms were doing, but whatever it was it seemed to be working.

She brought the not quite weapon down in a ferocious vertical bash. A crack of bones followed. She stared at her target – Munak's head was bent at a very peculiar angle. It was tilted left and leaning back, but the last hit had knocked her neck down so that her head was level with her chest. Robin dropped the branch and took several steps back. Her arms screamed in pain. It seemed she had just… _won_…

But surely the sensation of victory was something spectacular? And was nothing like dread…?

Munak was still levitating the same few inches above the mud. Nothing had moved except her head and now formidably mangled neck. She had already been dead…

_Crack_. It sounded like an explosion. Another crackle of bones sang its jeering tune, completely dead and still. Munak raised her head, stretching her neck, tilting, craning… the cracks carried on like a ripple. Robin winced with each one. Munak tilted her head to either side, then straightened, looking as if nothing had happened.

Robin had been fighting the numbness that threatened to settle into her body. She stopped fighting. She was exhausted. It was hopeless.

She couldn't move.

She gaped at Munak as she resumed her journey towards the swordsman.


	16. The Stirring Anger

Something very unfortunate: I have realised that on study leave, I am actually required to uh... study. I've had two exams so far, and I don't think I cocked them up too badly. But yeh, this has been an unforgivably slow update, but I got there in the end. I was actually running out of people to write about by the end of it, so terrible writer's block. Well, yeah. I wholeheartedly hope you enjoy this one._

* * *

_

_The Stirring Anger_

The spell of sight was fading – Mikoto was losing her focus. And Munak was not.

Robin wanted to cry. When death's chill swoops down on raven's wings, she puts tears in people's eyes. Death's chill had arrived, and Robin could taste it. It tasted of nothing. The smell of damp earth thrived maliciously until it swallowed the swordsman whole and became part of her. It tore her throat, stung her eyes, crumbled her hands and dried her mouth… This was a new, disgusting, sharp kind of dread and something so human as crying wouldn't help.

Munak approached, and Robin watched. She couldn't attack, she couldn't defend and she couldn't run. She could do nothing. Nothing.

"_Robin, move!_" Mikoto was screaming. Robin barely heard her. The spell of sight spluttered.

Robin could do nothing. She did nothing. Munak raised her hands, and thin elegant fingers flexed and tensed like eagle claws.

"_Robin!_" The word "in" was repeated several times in one violent exhale and collapsed into a strangled sob. It was a horrible. She drew in her breath sharply and screamed something completely inaudible. With an outraged shriek, she bellowed, "_Move!_"

The world swung precariously. Strong hands with an iron grip wound around Robin's neck and tightened, and her feet left the ground. But the tightening didn't stop.

Breathe!

_I can't._

You must breathe to live!

_I can't breathe though._

Do it the way you've always done it! Please! Just breathe!

_I can't._

The air was thick enough to submerge her. Her ears rang and sweat prickled while her lungs starved. It ached, it hurt, it pounded like hammers. Munak's ruthless hold bruised her neck, squeezing flesh and bone into one. Robin's vision tumbled erratically. All the while, the mage's scream raked the air, and floated further and further away…

There was a rush of air, and Robin lifted her head, choking dry muddy air into her lungs like water. _Breathe! Breathe!_ Panic was erupting in tides of fire. She found damp earth crumbling against her hands and knees, and the iron grip, though gone, continued to pound against her neck. Her ability to hear crashed back into her like a bruise.

_I'm alive!_ she realized. _How?_ she wondered.

The cave was flooded with a spell of sight, but it didn't throw amber shadows over the stark rocks – it was a distinctive icy blue. It belonged to an acolyte.

A very important question erupted violently in her throat – she wanted very much to shout it but she'd forgotten how to move her mouth – _What the Hel happened?_

"Stay calm, Robin," a very still voice said. Robin found something soft and kind of squashy thrust into her hand and she found herself clinging to it. "Hold him, and squeeze him when you get scared."

The tone was so calm and soothing, and somehow familiar. Her left arm circled the "him", and her right hand tugged at someone else's. She looked around the cave and saw a warp portal – it certainly looked like one, but this was just too good to be true. A Holy Light incantation rang savagely, and the source of the spell turned out to be a fierce-eyed priestess. Mikoto stood wailing next to her.

And Dante… She had to return Dante's body. What would happen to him if they just left him?

Dante's corpse lay sprawled and wide-eyed some twenty feet away in it's cold rocky den. Munak was still around somewhere, but a quick sprint…

"Robin, wait!" An unknown wind roared in her ears instantly. The word "wait" didn't register. The little squashy thing whatever it was lay lodged tightly between her arm and her chest; clinging to it with white knuckles, she somehow closed the gap between Dante and herself.

She wasn't sure how she was supposed to pick him up. His arms were thrown behind his head and his legs were jumbled rigidly as they had buckled and collapsed beneath his dead body. Her hands pawed the air. She wrapped her arms around his waist and lifted. She expected him to hold onto her, and when he didn't she stumbled. She suddenly felt very lonely.

But the mystery priestess with the sharp glare slung Dante over her shoulder with one hand and yanked Robin up into the air and back onto her feet with the other. "Through the portal," she snapped fiercely. The swordsman was half-led and half-carried to the warp portal, and nearly fainted when she passed through.

Mindless autumn sunlight greeted her. Birds sang. She became aware that her mouth was very dry. The air was so cold and clean and fresh that it seemed the caves had drowned her like an earthy ocean; she wanted a drink and, for some strange reason, a bath. She stood straight and found herself swaying.

"What happened? Where am I?" she gasped. Her mouth was working again; she was dimly aware of the little squashy thing. She clutched it with both hands.

"This is the garden in the Wolf's Sanctuary," replied the priestess. She had a sharp voice and bright gold eyes; there was a traditional tenderness and fierceness that suggested that this woman was a mother. She had an arm around the violently shaking Mikoto and was fussing over Robin. Hand on forehead, check pulse, pinch cheeks… "You're still in Payon. Your friend here came and fetched me, and I warped you two out."

Somewhere in that sentence was something quite unbelievable, and it took a few seconds for Robin to work out what is was. She felt like a rock. She looked at the squashy thing in her arms and saw that it was a faded black colour. She turned it around, and was met with the friendly vacant gaze of the little black cat doll.

"Here are your swords," Ghost said as if nothing had happened. She held out two short swords without any sign of emotion. In the caves she looked normal, and now drenched in sunlight, her acolyte's robe was dull with dirt and the rest of her was snowy white. With light streaming down on the white hair and passive rosy eyes, Ghost looked like a strange angel.

Two things happened in Robin's mind at once. The first was that the full weight of what had happened in the caves flashed across her memory like a portrait she'd looked at all her life. The second was an obscure cauldron of the angry shock that struck when she thought the acolyte had left her, and a new painful gratitude. She was certain she was feeling too much.

The result was that she walked past her swords, clung tighter to the cat doll, and hugged Ghost with her free hand. Then she let herself cry.

-X-X-

"Sis! You didn't tell me they were them!"

Whoever it was encased in the sharp black armour didn't react to the little sage. Ruriko darted behind Taiken and a little squeaking noise became audible in her throat periodically.

Draco smiled. "Well, at least you know now, sweetheart." Ruriko had of course heard of the Sentinels Guild, but when Draco had explained it to her, she had done so in a mixture of common-tongue and the Language of the Making, for a six-year-old Ruriko's convenience. So the Sentinels became the _To-Pali_ – the iron puppets.

"You're supposed to be giving them orders," Oshi sighed casually. "They won't budge an inch unless you tell them to."

"I'm supposed to be giving orders to _them_?" Ruriko spluttered, wearing a facial expression that suggested that something very heavy had just fallen on her foot. Six yes noises replied. "… Can't Taiken do it?"

"The prince said the Sentinels would only obey the guild mistress of the God's Cry; do I look like a guild mistress to you?"

"… Fine, but I'm still getting this weird feeling that they're going to beat me up…"

"They'll do no such thing, so get on with it!" Hawk's patience was drying rapidly.

"OK, OK! _Oré yo kestata-so…_ Could you please take us down to the bit where the… bug is?"

"Could the guild mistress be more specific," replied a voice in the armour.

"The buggy one…! The golden one."

"At once."

The long trek began. Ruriko tried to sidle back amidst her guild, but the sentinel made sure that she was always in his shadow. Or her shadow. It was impossible to tell. Whoever it was, they were a disconcertingly rigid, calm presence.

The route through the Pronteran Sewers was not an easy one; had they not had their terrifying Guide of Honour, it would probably take days to reach the lower levels. Draco didn't know how many of the others had been to the culverts before, although she was willing to bet that none of them had. If she hadn't been, Ruriko certainly hadn't. Taiken passed his childhood well away from the vicious capital of Midgard. Chisel may have done. Kyo most probably never even conceived the idea of the place. If either Hawk or Oshi had, then they weren't telling.

The group received a lot of apprehensive stares. The entrance was filled with skinny youngsters of all walks of life, all varying in efficiency. The time spent traversing the spider network of bridges passed in ice ages, and Draco could feel the sides of her feet prickling.

"Ruriko, ask the sentinel what the prince told him."

"Um… what are your orders from Tristan?"

"We are to escort the God's Cry to the lower levels, and protect them if need be."

Ruriko turned to Oshi.

"Tch!" His characteristic dry snigger. Draco stared at him straight in the face, and found nothing. That meant he was brooding.

Then there was the climb down the ladder, which felt like a dive into the ocean. The torches spluttered in their brackets.

When Draco reached the bottom, she saw the sentinel stood statically, as if to attention, and a flash of steel shot back into a sheath. Two small splashes signalled something cut in half.

"Familiar," Ruriko explained shortly.

"You've shrunk again, Ruriko," said Taiken. Draco fought back a laugh; the sage did indeed look a lot shorter when stood nervously next to their escort, who had to be at least a healthy foot taller than her.

If the entrance of the culverts was difficult to navigate, then this new place was impossible. Draco, and everyone else by the sound of things, learnt to follow the sentinel's footsteps exactly. The passage wormed randomly into different shapes, and there were several instances of people falling down walls. Glistening, murky green thief bugs sprouted in abundance. They scurried from the walls and toppled from the ceiling. Hawk sniped them nonchalantly, and after twenty minutes of it, his face was heavily lidded in a dark-eyed frown and his mouth was drawn in a tight horizontal line. Soon, as his arrow struck true, and the ever-familiar shrill death rattle rasped the air, he snapped, and in a loud angry voice, expressed a wish for "those bloody buggery things to just sod off and die quietly".

What seemed like a small age later, they came to non-descript stone tiles that were the same size, shape and colour as the pit that would take them lower. A pair of torches framed in an archway promised a more worthwhile passageway about ten feet away. Chisel sighed wearily and said that the architects had been cheating when they designed this place.

Draco tugged at a loose strap on her armguard before descending the ladder. It was very high, and she gave a tired warning to the others to not look down. The others descended without a word. She found three other sentinels stood at the base of the ladder, next to a pile of human skeletons and insect hides. Their escort joined the line, and the four looked identical.

The new environment came as too much of a surprise. It wasn't murky like the levels above, but it was bathed thoroughly in an amber light, and the assassin received the impression that she was stood in a barrel of ale. She paced the base of the ladder lightly, and the soft pad of Oshi landing trickled like a breeze behind her. Her head snapped around instantly to find him scanning the place. Hawk's falcon swooped down and glided silently over the landscape.

The others followed shortly after. Taiken had his guitar propped carefully over his back. Chisel had been persuaded to leave his cart in Prontera Castle. Kyo had rested her chakrams over her forearm. Ruriko nearly fell off the ladder, making a great deal of fuss in the process.

Hawk looked to Oshi and beckoned. He took off on a hasty prowl, which Ruriko referred to as "the hunter thing". He had two arrows notched over his bow, and he kept his movements swift and small, following some unknown trail. Oshi padded silently after him, and Chisel, tapping Draco gently on the shoulder as he went, followed.

The source of the intoxicating light was hordes of lanterns, swaying like church bells from the ceiling. The water was pearly clear, and the bridges over them were rickety. Their footsteps crackled over damp sand.

Hawk relaxed to a halt. Chisel walked into Oshi's back, issuing a weary snarl from the assassin. But Hawk was drawing back his bow and aiming. Draco scanned the horizon for the target, and found a little flaw of gold some way into the distance. A couple of hundred yards and a channel of the moat separated them. The bow creaked weightily as the hunter pulled it back with one fluid movement. Draco had tried to fire a bow of relative size, and she'd only ever managed to hold it back for about a second. Intense concentration was written into a meticulous, calculating glare, and the muscles tensed visibly over his arms.

The arrows whistled shrilly as they flew. The healthy crack of metal embedded into metal and flesh quaked, and a shriek of rage tore after it. The golden thief bug stampeded into view, arrows sticking out at very odd angles.

"Ah, should've known it wouldn't be that easy," the hunter sighed, smiling apologetically.

"Yes, you should have," replied Oshi with a smirk. His katars sprang out of their sheaths.

The canal separating them was wide; this should've had some kind of tactical advantage, but it didn't. The bug quickly reached the edge of its designated ground and leapt dramatically into the air – there was a rather awed silence as it soared – landing some way in front of Hawk, causing an impressive crash of stone.

It made to lunge at the hunter. It stopped when Chisel's axe fell on its back. Oshi's katars followed, and Draco ran in for a dropkick. She watched it skid backwards, and slipped back into Hiding, and saw Oshi melt out of view also.

The rain-like pluck of Taiken's guitar, and his gentle tenor voice soared with swan grace in a savage song. Kyo stamped furiously, and she joined the bard with an angelic chant. The tune swelled, and a strange violet dust surrounded the pair as they sang of a fierce, forgotten battle. Draco had the sudden urge to charge straight at their foe and pound it, lots, with this wonderful new feeling of strength and an odd sharp-toothed swashbuckler confidence.

Chisel succumbed to the urge; the axe collided with the ground. He met the glutinous clicking pincer with his weapon and again with his gauntlet. The axe swiped, left, down, and the blade slipped past the bug as it leapt back. The blacksmith swerved narrowly past their foe's lunge.

The bug was quick – its pincers were aiming for Chisel less than a second later. What they found was the heavy katars of a short angry assassin. Oshi didn't Cloak when he attacked, and the flash of his blades pounding into the golden thief bug was a very vivid sight. He brought them crashing down, threw his arms into the air and brought them down again, and again…

The echo of a spell burst out – casting circles appeared around the bug, and the runes drew themselves in flames as they were named. Ruriko was a quick caster. A rain of fire followed, lighting the cave red rather than amber for a moment.

But the casting circles were still around the bug, and they were constricting – that wasn't right… The arrows of fire stopped a few inches short of their target, continuing to burn mindlessly. The bug was casting now. The fire obeyed its new orders; a wall of flames sprang in front of Oshi. Both he and Chisel back away warily.

"Hey! That's cheating!" spat Ruriko indignantly. Draco grit her teeth, and tasted the song that made her heart race. She clutched her daggers, and with a light leap, caught up with the bug. She stabbed, and it slipped beneath her dagger. She swiped and it jumped back. It lunged at her. She left her Second Self where she was standing and sprang back deftly.

_That was lovely and unsuccessful…_

She eyed the slightly translucent copy of herself for signs of an attack; there were none. The bug was going for someone else… Draco instinctively looked for Kyo, and found her dancing to the brave music. Several frantic whistles from flying arrows hinted at Hawk becoming very agitated – it was definitely going for Kyo.

Oshi leapt in front of it and mimicked Draco's tactic. The bug didn't pay attention to the Second Self. Casting circles signalled another fire bolt spell from Ruriko. The spell struck, but the bolts bounced off the gold shell in blossoms of fire.

"It's a bug!" Ruriko shouted. "It should burn really easily!"

"Since it isn't, try a different element!" Hawk yelled back impatiently.

Draco barely heard it; she was sprinting to intercept the bug. Kyo was doing nothing to move away. The assassin immediately had to sidestep away from the pincers. She underestimated it. She felt something like a hammer bash into her stomach. She found herself staring directly at the swaying lanterns, and her back hit something. She figured out a second later that she'd just been knocked over.

A little silver line appeared out of the corner of her eye, and she found casting circles directly beneath her. The bug was heavy, and perched imperiously on her torso – she couldn't move. She could hear a chant, like a hiss in a pit, and she recognised the words spoken. It was another fire wall. Her mind refused to put two and two together.

Another chant rang – the Spell Break. The casting circles broke, and footsteps pounded, along with a chant that Draco knew. Beyond the golden glow of the thief bug, a katar, glowing with a poison enchantment. Oshi sprinted over, swung his arm across his chest, and swung it back around the other way in a dramatic horizontal sweep. The enchantment left the blade and struck the bug with the force of a hammer. It flew. An arrow followed. And so did several shards of ice.

"Are we even making a dent on that thing?" shouted Hawk from his sniping position.

Draco leapt back into an upright position, and Oshi stood protectively in front of her; she frowned indignantly. Chisel sprinted past, with his axe raised heroically. Hawk shot at it again. To ease her feeling of inadequacy, Draco threw a couple of knives.

Before Chisel could reach it, another fire wall flared, and it directed a fire bolt at the assassins, which was dodged easily. A bolt struck Oshi directly on the arm, leaving a furious red mark. He winced without the tiniest noise.

Following prior instructions, Ruriko proceeded to do her "sage thing". A few gemstones adorning her wrists glowed. She swept her arm down as she yelled, "_Eno va shi stai_," and a cloud of gold and blue dust exploded into a shock of white light. It curled itself into a mist and planted itself to the ground, giving the impression that the place had been subjected to a storm of diamonds. The amber glow died and became silver.

The bug was beginning to cast another fire wall. Draco smirked as the casting circles appeared – she knew what the ground here had been infected with. Runes were being named and they were taking form, but the bright white enchantment was thickening around the spell. Some of it thinned, leaving hand shapes in the light. The hands surrounded the casting circles and gripped it; then they tugged, and the spell snapped instantly.

"Ta-ah!" shouted Ruriko gleefully. "That won't work against Magnetic Earth!"

The bug screeched. Since it's protective wall of fire had failed to come, the assassin running at it didn't stop. The katars darkened with their poison enchantment, and the same hammer-like impact sent the target soaring. It began another spell, and Ruriko broke it eagerly. Hawk's arrows struck it's back. Its pincers clicked as they met Chisel's axe.

The grapple was surprisingly short; the blacksmith and the bug shook with concentration as they battled for about a second. Then their foe sighed, almost sleepily, and toppled back. That was too easy… it might've been planning something. Draco sprinted forward and dropkicked it away from Chisel for good measure.

It landed none too gracefully, but it was stable again, and it lunged back at her. She stepped lightly away. It was thrown off in some other direction, and Draco turned to find Oshi recovering from an attack.

He glared after it suspiciously, katars gripped tightly in front of him. Then he lowered them and smirked. "It's poisoned," he said with a light chuckle.

"It can't be," Draco snapped back instantly. "You know as well as I that bugs have more tolerance against poison than humans."

"Sorry, Draco, but he's right," Hawk interjected, bewildered.

Draco stared at it grimly. It was showing the signs of one suffering from poison… It staggered, and the pincers clicked irregularly. It looked very different. There was a heaving like a wind that couldn't blow – it's breathing was becoming heavier.

The insect legs danced beneath it, and it was turning. With a horribly mismatched pace, it started after Kyo again. Another fire bolt spell was broken by Ruriko. Encouraged, Draco whispered a poison enchantment on her left dagger, Eris, and sprinted after the bug. She swung Eris in a vertical sweep, and span around to follow it up with a heel drop into the insect's back. A dent appeared in the gold shell.

Taiken was grinning, and he strummed a different chord on his guitar. Kyo looked at him, and her dance immediately went from the furious scuffing and stamping to a graceful twirl. The song was mournful and dramatic, and it made Draco feel frail and weak.

"Attack! Attack!" Hawk was shouting, notching his bow and firing at disconcerting speed. Oshi ran ahead of Draco, and her throwing knife struck before his katar. Chisel's axe toppled last. This time they had actually done damage…! The daggers, the arrows and the ice had penetrated the shell; a deep slit from a katar oozed the strange black blood; and Chisel's axe had left a very satisfying dent.

But the golden thief bug continued to stagger. Like Phreeoni, it had lost. It was finished, dying. But it continued to go for the dancer. Draco frowned incredulously, and her mind spluttered. What kind of determination possessed them to do that…? To trail the Arien girl so incessantly? To their dying breaths, they pursued her…

"Kyo, move!" Hawk was beginning to panic. Draco was still dumbstruck.

Kyo remained completely calm. She just… carried on with her dance…

The bug lunged. She swirled lightly out of the way, with such tranquillity, as if it were merely just part of her routine. She stood completely still, poised like a doll. Her left leg was lifted from the ground, the toe pointed. One arm was thrown out to the side, a chakram suspended on the wrist, and the other was held in front of her chest.

Time slowed, in a hot, stewing mix of sickness and dread. The bug crawled after her, the strange gasping rolling with it. She closed her eyes, and the corners of mouth pointed up in a sharp smile.

"_Ka… ya, torishi o so, keste ka…_" Draco gaped. She didn't understand the words, and the dancer didn't either. Kyo appeared to be whispering them. They tumbled from her mouth like the hiss of a snake, and filled the cave. "_Vasa stai. Isa stai o. Estra pi vassari… iika…to youx tari… aste stai._"

Draco wasn't sure what strange movement Kyo did to finish it. One moment, she was stood gracefully as a dancer should be. The next, an ear-splitting crash of metal screamed coldly. Draco flinched as if it were nails on slate. The bug was a mess of glutinous black and gold. A pair of chakrams was embedded deeply in its back, breaking it like a mirror. It was difficult to tell what shape her foe had been before.

Kyo blinked several times, as if clearing her eyes of something. When she was done, she stood up straight, and looked at her blood stained weapons. She frowned, confused. With genuine confusion. She looked at the golden thief bug.

"Oh," she said.

Oshi was walking up to it. He was going to cut its heart out, as he had done with Phreeoni, and Draco didn't particularly want to watch that. She'd been a little apprehensive of Kyo before but… The dancer was actually becoming quite frightening. She was odd, even by the God's Cry standards. Ruriko only ever went into fits when she was casting a very out-of-the-box spell. She and Oshi were quick, but they didn't see things before they happened. Hawk had keen vision but he couldn't see through Hiding without help.

"Kyo?" She wanted to ask if the dancer remembered saying whatever it was.

"Yes?"

"Nothing." She didn't want to worry the girl.

-X-X-

"Any student caught out of bed in the middle of the night should be reprimanded and hit over the head. Do not let students out on the old playgrounds, we have new boring ones for them…"

"The where what?"

Orius delicately recounted a rather unsavoury meeting with Meron and some of the parents of his students, the basic outcome of which was a new set of health and safety regulations. There were several rules relating to the height and depth of stairs, the height of banisters, but more to the point, it meant very boring playgrounds. Arche herself had accumulated many injuries from break times of delinquency, as had any student of Yuno.

"Climbing frames you can step over, swings that take three hours to strap into, that sort of thing…" he finished primly.

Arche was Orius's only living relative. Orius had not and would never marry for a reason that he seemed to find very amusing. "I've got enough "children" as it is, and this little handful here…" The second part only applied if Little Ruriko was in the vicinity. There was some truth in this. Just about every student as well as all of the teachers of the Yuno Academy of Magic considered Orius a father, and the more exceptional of Geffen looked at him as a favourite uncle.

Orius was the older brother of Arche's mother, a sage also. Arche's father was a monk. They disappeared somewhere beyond the northern border. Arche didn't feel any particular pangs about it, having been living under Orius's attentive upbringing for over three years, in which she received a good set of values, stocky morals, a few whacks to the head, and a grand total of eight replacement pairs of glasses. She didn't miss them unless she had to think about them. So she didn't think about them. She never thought of what life was like before Yuno, she never wondered where they were, she never thought to go looking for them… A new reason to dive into books with her heart and soul, to drown herself in her education, to make the Language of the Making sink into her very skin – outside the musty world of musty books she had to think about her parents. _Sod that_, she decided with a pout.

Here was something new to dive into with her heart and soul – teaching. Marius's instruction was mercifully short ("You've either got it or you haven't"). Erita's dictum of a good teacher was quite lengthy. Orius's was approximately the same length as the distance between Yuno and Prontera. And Arche had a lot of spare time in which to listen to it.

-X-X-

The Pronteran Sanctuary was a very unique environment. Excel watched the crowds nervously. There were always a lot of people. Healers were always in high-demand. The church's inhabitants led a very packed life – they were needed for emergencies, such as the alchemy school's monthly explosion in which at least a dozen people were injured; travellers needed them to… travel, safely; they had to prepare services for the Lord's Day; they had to host weddings and funerals; the choir always had a new hymn to learn; on top of all this, they had to… live. Live their daily lives. Eat, sleep, take care of the Sanctuary, listen to people's woes, and learn.

There was a large white marble wall covered in blackboards. On them were written all the names of every acolyte living at the church, arranged in age order, along with their schedules. On the ten-year-olds board, Ghost was late and was currently supposed to have returned from Payon and now be attending a lesson with High Priest Melchiorre. She should have been back two days ago.

_Damn right, she should have._

Excel was gripping her hammer very tightly, and the constant twang of teleport spells was beginning to annoy her greatly.

"Stop growling like that, Exce-…"

"I'm not growling."

Tone paused as if something had just flown past his head. "You are."

"What will Excel grow up to be? An alchemist? A blacksmith? Or a barbarian?" Hyatt giggled.

"Where did barbarian come from?"

"Oh, they're normally… not very nice."

"A lot of them have very big axes."

"And terrible lisps. I reckon that's why they're so aggressive."

Tone was shaking his head, and frowning. "It's 'cause their teeth get knocked out."

Excel blinked, and found herself smiling as her brain caught up with her. "Really?" she burst out with genuine amazement. She couldn't stop herself from laughing as she tried to form her excuse. "I thought it was just a coincidence!"

Then something very unexpected happened. Being the nerve centre of the priests in the capital of Midgard, naturally there would be warp portals bursting into existence all over the place. Excel didn't expect to see Ghost step away from one.

The acolyte was now quite tall for her age. She moved the little black cat doll, now a bit more faded than when the merchant had seen it, from the crook of her arm to the top of her head, where it remained perched benignly. The girl's dress was quite filthy, splashed with mud all over the place, and it made the rest of her quite a shock to behold. Large, round eyes, made to be dark, stared around the place with their pale red gaze.

Hyatt pointed her out to Tone, and he called to her.

"What a coincidink-…" Hyatt's sentence disintegrated into a disconcertingly violent coughing fit, signalling her Lunchtime Collapse.

Ghost turned, shielding her face from the sun as if she were allergic to it. She gestured for them to wait, and a strange-looking, slightly intimidating priestess appeared next to her, arms around a swordsman Excel vaguely recognised, and a mage.

"I did it," Ghost said to the priestess, "but it would have been nicer if I could do it before."

"Don't fret yourself, child," replied the priestess dotingly. "You saved two lives today."

"It should've been three," Ghost said in her usual flat tone. She took the two steps to close the gap between herself and Tone. "What did you need me for?" She tilted forwards and backwards as she shifted from the balls of her feet to her toes. She grew an inch taller then curled an inch backwards in a gentle, constant lullaby sway.

"We just need a healer to go with us to Payon."

Her expression didn't change. She continued to sway backwards and forwards, but her arms became stiff, stationary, and ended in tiny little fists. Her colourless lips drew themselves into a tight grey line.

"Are you very intent on going?" she asked. Her voice also remained the same, but Excel heard her answer through come through gritted teeth.

Tone replied in the affirmative. If he found her at all strange, he was doing a good job of covering it up.

"Even if I do not give you my consent?"

Tone repeated his previous answer.

Ghost swayed slower. Her fingers flexed awkwardly. "Meet me here at the tenth bell tomorrow. I have lessons today."

With that, she turned back to the strange priestess with the golden glow, and they set off, apparently in search of the high priests.

Excel should've felt very happy. A click in her skull signalled that her teeth were grinding against each other. She would've stopped, but it was oddly comforting, though what she needed to be comforted about would remain a mystery for the next few hours. A break in the cycle of boredom… _but_…

Her mind was abuzz with some kind of distraction, and when a time came to put down her hammer, she found she didn't want to. Darkness settled at speeds never beheld before. She revived Hyatt twice, apparently automatically. She bid the alchemists good evening in a daze. Her appetite at dinner became very dainty.

Only when she was lying on her bed, wide-eyed, staring at her plain bedroom ceiling did it really click.

_You saved two lives today._

Ghost was a good healer, but saving two lives…? Why hadn't Excel thought to look at the swordsman and the mage? They seemed to be in a bit of a state…

_It should've been three._

Excel buried her face in her pillow. Something had happened in Payon. Ghost had been late. Someone had died. She had saved the other two. Ghost was weird… _but_… she was accompanying them to Payon, no doubt against her will and better judgement…

… To make sure _it_ didn't happen again.

And so began Excel's regard for the acolyte as one of the bravest and compassionate people she knew.

x-x-x

Melchiorre and Canth had begun to remonstrate Ghost for being late, until they were interjected by the arrival of a golden-eyed priestess. The woman was only an altar-girl in a small reclusive Payonese church, but she had a bitey voice and two distraught youngsters with her.

"… Oh." Canth wound up his lecture awkwardly.

"I do have something to say," Ghost said. It was odd looking down on Ghost – it was everything that looking down on a child was and more.

"Yes. Sorry, Ghost." He couldn't help looking down on her, but talking down her, or anyone else, was not acceptable. Canth was very careful with the way he talked to people.

"We encountered Munak. You told me the legend."

"Yes, but it should've just been a legend," Canth pleaded. "You're certain it was Munak? What did s-… _it_ look like?

"It was a she," the acolyte replied, and he felt himself wince, "and she wore red. She had this huge hat, with a talisman over her face. She got really close to Robin, didn't she."

The swordsman, her face a sheet of horror, swallowed and began her account with difficulty. "We couldn't get near her. There were all these barriers. She just… floated towards us. She looked real calm. Then she'd be like a few inches from you and her hands would just… shoot up. And… I could see her. Behind the talisman, I mean. I saw her face through the talisman. She was… she were…"

Robin's articulation crumbled with her composure. Ghost walked over and put a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Angry," the mage breathed as if she had been meaning to for a while.

"And you!" Robin recovered into a teary rage. "_You_! You filthy stinking little _coward_! Why didn't you light a spell!"

"_Don't_ call me a coward!" the mage spat back with a storm-cloud shriek. "Don't you call me anything!"

"_Dante was being killed and you sat there like a lemon, you stupid-…_!"

"_And there was nothing we could do_!"

Robin didn't retaliate. The storm had swept away any words left within her.

"If we could've helped, I would've lit a spell of sight. But we couldn't!" The mage was choking now. She sniffed loudly. "We couldn't do anything. Dante was going to die, and I was not going to watch…"

"But-…"

"_No_! We. Could. Do. _Nothing_! And don't you _dare_ call me a coward!"

The narrow chamber echoed with their shrieks, and the mage's threat lingered like a sword hung over a fireplace.

Ghost stood quietly. "It was definitely Munak," she added.

"Goodness…" Melchiorre whispered reverently.

"Yes," Canth said stiffly. _They didn't stand a chance._ "You can't touch a dark priest."

Dark priests were some of filthiest human beings in existence. They had no regard for life. They sacrificed people to enhance their own power. They strived for power for the sake of being powerful, and nothing else. No one knew their goal. They had a ceremony where they blinded a child with wooden stakes in order to enhance the sight of one of their own, permanently. _Insontis Oculatus_, innocent eyes, they called it. Canth shuddered.

-X-X-

The sun seemed to always be behind a cloud, and the night was too dark. The shadows looked solid. Geffen Tower loomed taller.

Runa was staying in the camp, but she was more annoyed than anything else for getting stabbed. She was the sort of person who got quieter when they were annoyed, and she was completely silent.

Khan stayed near the gates. He found he was feeling very odd. He was summoned by Shigeru twice, and went both times with a very firm desire to be elsewhere. He was getting paranoid. Who was that dancer?

"Khan?"

He looked up. It was Runa. She winced with each step. She was stood right in the middle of the western bridge. She looked a lot stiller than usual.

He hailed her back. "Are you feeling better?"

She nodded primly. "I just fancied a walk," she replied.

She smiled in an inviting sort of way. Then she turned and started walking into Geffen.

"Whoa! Runa! What are you doing?"

He wasn't sure what made him follow her: the delusion that it was her or the hunch that it was not. There was something very different about her. Runa was friendly, but definitely not… seductive, as it were. She would never be this forward.

And he couldn't see her sword. Her armour looked quite different too.

The bridges in Geffen, at the death of Ivas, had become the rickety things they actually were. Runa walked over them, with her hands clasped behind her back, as if they weren't. Khan wondered why no one else thought it odd that he seemed to be lurching into Geffen by himself. He had his lance in one hand and a crossbow over his back, but it only had four bolts.

Runa stood framed in the tall gates for a moment, watching him. She was wearing her rosary. She let him get nearer, then turned with a swoosh of dark hair, and walked off into the deserted streets.

The second he set foot on stable ground, he broke into a run after her. If it wasn't Runa, then he wanted to know who she was. If it was her, then he had to bring her back. He ran past where the gate sentries would've stood in the living days, found nothing to the left, and found Runa swaying serenely ahead of him to his right. She came to another turn, and twirled slowly around to check his progress. She gave the same man-eating smile and started off further into the city.

He pursued. He shouted her name occasionally for good measure, though the sparse hope that it was her dimmed very, very quickly. The bolts of his crossbow giggled.

The white rabbit chase hurtled by; he ran, and though she kept to her sweet little saunter, he couldn't catch up with her. She would still face him and tilt her head, waiting for him to catch up.

He rounded a corner to where a market square should have been bustling. The stalls had been crushed to splinters, and their merchandise and merchants were a black and charred mess. He stopped running when he realised she'd stopped. She turned and smiled again. Her eyes were blue… they should've been grey.

"You're not Runa," he said, and the fact sank in.

She laughed – an annoying giggle he had and would never hear from a woman like Runa. "_I am not," _she said, dusk blue eyes twinkling,_ "but then that raises a point: if you knew, why did you follow?_"

He didn't know.

"_I thought you would. Humans have a strange trait that they just can't accept loss. They can't just stand up and move on. Do you really think you couldn't live without Runa?_"

"I'd rather keep her around," he replied carefully.

"_Why though? What kind of person does it take, what traits must they have, how much significance must they have to you, that they are totally essential for your well being?_"

"I can't say."

"_Really?_" The not-Runa was shuffling now. She took a couple of steps right, and a couple back, beginning a pointed-toe pacing. She looked as if she were deep in thought. She bit her lip, which was the wrong colour for Runa's complexion. She looked… faded around the edges.

"You're Doppelganger, aren't you?"

She didn't reply, but the false grace was collapsing into a childish skip. She fixed Khan with a quizzical gaze, frowning. Then, the armour began to melt away, and underneath it were lean arms and a tall, skinny frame. The black waves down her back shrunk into a new messy, boy's hairstyle, one who couldn't quite be bothered to find out what a comb was. The eyes lightened to a piercing icy blue, the skin darkened to a healthy tan… The false Runa changed into a false, enigmatic wizard, distinctly payonese.

The wizard folded his arms. Khan looked closer and saw that he was one of the high wizards. The youngest of them was very famous for this tall, distinctive appearance…

"_No, I don't understand it…_" the false wizard said in a false deep voice. His hair looked a bit overly messy. His pacing consisted of wide, eloquent strides.

"Why this wizard?"

Doppelganger looked up from his brooding. There was a wide-eyed curiosity about him. "_I was about to kill one of them, and this one ran over cracking off ice spells far too quickly. He looked really angry. I still got the over one though; the spell just knocked me off a bit. He probably bled to death…_"

"What are you?" Khan repeated. He could've been fierce if he wanted to, but it came out like an inquisitive child.

The wizard's height and presence melted away like rain, and the blond swordsman stood perfectly still, like a keen-eyed cat with a twitchy tail.

"_Doppelganger._"

"No, not who… What."

"… _There's a difference?_"

"There is. Don't ask me to explain it," he added quickly.

"_Well, this boy… I killed him, and I am him_."

"You killed him, and he became part of you?"

"_His memories. What's left of him. I didn't have a form of my own. This isn't him. This is what's left of him._"

"Why do you want to understand humans?"

"_I am not human, but I have human memories,_" Doppelganger said in a melancholy murmur. He smiled as if remembering something very dear to him. "_So strange… They fought to the end. All of them. And for what? There was no hope for them – and what is the point of killing a human who has no hope?_"


	17. Holy Prayers

I've been slow again, because my musical endeavours have become very time-consuming. I'm a bit paranoid about this chapter really / Lots of carnage. My brother thinks I am a disturbed child... I rewrote chapter 1, if anyone could stand to read it again. I'll rewrite some more of my earlier chapters, because frankly, a lot of them embarass me. Also, apologies for any typos in the last bit, I'm doing this update in a bit ofa rush because I've been really lazy about thisthis time around.Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter D: It was very difficult to write...

* * *

_The Dread Pirate and the Soulless Horseman_

The God's Cry were returning. The bard led them, and they came in pairs, Ruriko arm-in-arm with her sister, the blacksmith tipping the boyish cap on his head and walking with a fairly non-descript barbarian, and the Arien dancer accompanying a hunter. Her complexion was quite exotic for a northerner.

Tristan smiled at the excuse to neglect his paperwork, and replaced the form carefully back on the pile next the throne he was probably spending too much time in. He and Hester had recently sorted through all the things that required signing, checking, ticking, sending… and had proceeded to place them in a pile for Tristan to sign, check, tick, send… He and Arne had nicknamed the pile The Amatsan Wall, a little tribute to the _Guerre te Muladi_, because neither could see the other over the top of it and they predicted that it would take twelve years to conquer.

Hester, Kenji, Arne and Sebek the sentinel followed the odd guild.

"Not a scratch on them," Hester announced happily.

"They did not require assistance," Sebek's deep voice rumbled.

"I really do think I should be paying you for this," Tristan tried again.

The bard wouldn't hear of it. "It was a favour," he insisted. It was difficult to believe he was from Yuno – the blond hair, beach tan and friendly grin suggested he was born and bred in Comodo.

"Then I should return it." Tristan was not about to lose an argument to a musician.

His opponent shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "We don't really need paying."

"Taiken, that may not be – _ah!_" The hunter began to contradict and the bard kicked him the shin. "_Ow. Ow. Bastard. Ow…_"

Taiken began a light-hearted stroll in a circle around the guild. "We don't need paying," he added.

"Could I finish my sentence anyway?" The hunter looked as if he was in considerable pain.

"If you promise to brush your hair later."

He frowned for a second, as if considering saying no. His hair was fairly atrocious; it didn't go past his shoulders, but there was a lot of it. "I need to be spending winter with the wolves."

"You normally _hunt_ the wolves, Hawk," replied Taiken in bewilderment. "You know, stick a pointed bit of wood in its head, bring it home and eat it."

"Those are stray wolves. Anyway, something in the mountains is killing the pups, and they're not doing well. As a ranger, I have a duty to look after them."

"Hawk. You're a hunter."

Hawk coughed awkwardly. "You get two kinds of hunters," he began cleanly, "the "nature-bound", and the "duty-bound", or as I like to put it, the People Who Do Their Job and the Arrogant Bigots. Duty-bound and Nature-bound… Honestly! Nature _is_ your duty…" During his speech, he'd shifted his weight from one leg to the other, crossed his arms over his chest, tilted his head and scowled. "The Nature-bound are more commonly referred to as rangers, but technically, they're still hunters."

"So, wait," Taiken started in mildly urgent tones, "we're not going to have any meat during the winter?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"… Oh, terrific. And I've just lost an argument to a prince."

Hawk had suddenly become distracted by something next to him; Tristan saw it was the Arien girl. She was apparently in the middle of a very trying headache. Her breathing was ragged, and quite heavy. Hawk was about to ask her what was wrong.

She collapsed without any warning at all. She went totally limp, her legs stopped working, her knees buckled and she descended in a heap. Hawk caught her by the shoulders and held her up; with a swift movement, he hoisted her up and let her lie over his arms.

The God's Cry was thrown into mild confusion. Hawk held her almost defensively; he did it in a way that said, "This is my job".

"This has not been a good day for her," Ruriko's sister sighed wearily. There was something very possessive about the way the hunter's fingers pawed gently at the girl's shoulder.

Tristan watched the crowd, noting its individuals quickly. The non-descript barbarian wasn't actually all that non-descript; a defensive shadow had moved off of him for perhaps a second, and a tense, slightly skinny young man, incredibly agitated, became visible. Taiken drew them back, telling them to leave the dancer some air. The blacksmith stepped away reluctantly, and Ruriko's sister tugged the sage back carefully. Although Hawk's reaction struck Tristan as very odd.

He turned and nodded to Hester, letting her know she was free to carry out her instinctive courtesy. She did so, beckoning for them to follow her, and she would take them to a spare room and do whatever she could. Taiken nodded gratefully and followed. The nod signalled an unspoken approval, and the guild followed. Tristan waited until the echo of their footsteps had disappeared.

"Sebek," he said. The sentinel stepped forward instantly. Tristan wanted to know exactly how well the God's Cry performed, and he was quite interested to know exactly what the barbarian had meant when she said, "This has not been a good day for her." That Arien girl was curious little prodigy.

-X-X-

Alberta was a loud, ferocious port town. The cries of competing merchants billowed through the town more steadily than the wind and the waves clapped against the harbour like cymbals. The smithy was loud and organized, a heavy contrast to the glorified tavern in Prontera, the bronze building of Luoyang, the grandeur of Yuno, and what was left of the clean-cut efficient smithy in Geffen.

Tirus was stood waiting outside of the church, a humble non-descript white building. The town was famed for its merchants, not its devout citizens. In fact, a lot of them would probably sell their own mother for a profit. However, the world of merchants wasn't without its kind dedicated members. He was scanning the crowds for someone in particular…

"Boo," said the particular person. Tirus immediately pretended to be terrified. Around his shoulders hovered the smiling face of his brother, Arren, a fledgling priest who spent as much time as possible traversing the overly noisy town and doing good. Tirus responded by stealing the black biretta perched on his head. Tirus would wear it until they reached the harbour, where they would sit and talk.

And Tirus would say, "Why black again?"

Arren sighed. He'd explained this several times already. "Rank. Black is for someone serving in a church, and they can either be a priest or an acolyte; purple is for the manager of his or her church; red is for the high priests who are in charge of all the churches."

Arren then narrated all the things he'd done that day. A swordsman, in a rather exuberant game of tag, had fallen down a gritty slope, skidding down spectacularly on his elbow, and scraping nearly all the flesh from his arm. His acolyte apprentice had run headlong into a door, somehow. A miner nailed his hard hat onto his head. All in all, being a healer was rather taxing on the imagination.

Tirus had had a fairly non-descript day. He had breakfast, trained with his affianced spar partner, Anselma, had lunch, then trained some more until he came to meet Arren.

Arren didn't reply; something didn't feel right.

"Arren?"

Paranoia was settling in. It felt like paranoia, but… _It isn't paranoia if they really are out to get you._ He looked around. A few people in the crowd were looking quite wary. The shouts of merchandise, merchandise, merchandise raged on beyond the port, and fishermen steered their boats sleepily around the dock. Arren looked again. The people looking wary all bore the robes and skinniness of magic users.

He stood up, walked right to the end of the dock, placing his feet carefully, and shuffling to adjust the angle. He leaned over slowly and peered dubiously into the water. It looked deep and empty, as it always had. But where were the fish? There had to be something… On reflex, the chant for a sense spell sprang alive in his mind, but he didn't dare utter the words; he was afraid of what he would find.

"Arren?" Tirus tried again. Arren squinted at the restless sway of the waves and saw nothing again. He edged back from the edge and returned to his place next to his brother. Still, there _had_ to be something…

"Do you want your hat back?" asked Tirus, trying to break the silence again. The priest turned awkwardly and took the stiff black cap back with vague apprehension.

He heard footsteps behind them, a lot closer than they should be. It was a skinny young mage; she tiptoed to the edge of the harbour and peered warily into the sea. She did so for quite some time.

"Arren, is something wrong?" Tirus's brotherly concern and annoyance flared up.

"… I don't know. Could we go home?" Arren decided he would feel safer in his familiar room with the door locked, the windows shut, the curtains drawn, and possibly the bed covers pulled up over his head.

Tirus nodded stiffly and began walking in the direction of town. They'd walked perhaps twenty yards when Arren succumbed to the urge to look behind him.

And something had happened. The fishermen were staring at the water and pointing, some frowning, puzzled, others gaping, horrified. A satiny dark red flaw was blossoming in the waves.

And where was the mage…?

The fishermen began shouting, panicking. _What the Hel is that?_ There was a sound like someone with wet hands punching a rock.

_Clap_… They scrambled over their boats to get back on solid ground… _Clap_… Half of the mage's torso, covered in red bludgeon marks, floated into view… _Clap_… Tirus drew his sword…_ Clap_… A grey and white something clasping a sharp broad bladed falchion appeared at the end of the dock… _Clap_… An arm, wearing a dusky blue coat, clutching a sword in a similar state of excellency clamped the stone tiles also…

The owner of the swords was hoisting himself into view. A corsair's hat emerged first. The thing crawling out the sea slithered into a sprawled heap on the white stone. There was the blue coat, darkened from the ocean, dull leather boots, and the blinding flash of the swords. A dark smear of water trailed after it.

It began standing. It lifted itself on its fists, placed itself on its knees, and rose calmly to its feet. Stood tall, the broad curved blades glinting from its sides, two things became apparent. The first was that this "man" was a pirate. The second was that he was dead. The fragments of skin still clinging to the skull visible beneath the corsair's hat was grey.

Alberta, the town of noise and merchandise, was falling to silence.

Except for the fishermen. The boats rocked precariously as they fled. The pirate raised his hand, and a hoarse, deep voice began a spell.

The sea was stirring to new orders. The waves crashed against each other in pillars. Suddenly, rain was gathering in crystalline clumps and falling from the wrong end of the world. It spurted upwards like rockets. Without a moment's hesitation, they changed direction, shooting off in a hazy criss-crossing hailstorm. They blitzed through the humble wooden boats, reducing them to splinters, causing a ceremonious explosion and a napalm splash with every hit. It was loud. Tirus grabbed Arren by the wrist and tugged him back to town. Arren saw one of the water orbs blast straight through a man's head, and blood shot out the other side in clumps.

Arren had never noticed just how much his vision moved when he was running. People streaked past him, screaming, in a blur of horror. The world sounded like lots of people pounding at drums and shrieking as loud as possible.

They stopped and the crowd swerved around them like flies. Some were making their way to the port, brandishing weapons with white knuckles.

"It's undead," Tirus shouted to his brother breathlessly. Arren nodded, giddy and numb. "Me and these other guys can distract it, and you can cast the Magnus Exor-whatsit."

"Magnus Exorcismus," Arren corrected automatically. Fear bubbled in his throat. "Tirus…"

"Nothing'll happen to you! I'll keep him off you until you complete the spell."

"Tirus… let's just run."

"We'll be fine!" The knight was cheery. It made Arren feel like he'd already been taken away. "I have a duty, Arren, and so do you. Let's do it together."

"We'll die."

"You know me better than that! I won't die. Just cast the Magnus Exor-whatsit, OK?"

"Magnus Exorcismus."

Tirus smiled reassuringly, clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder one last time, then turned away. People lay in thirds as the pirate made his way towards town in a brisk, calculated stroll.

There had to be some chance of winning… Arren took two gemstones from his pocket, closed his eyes, and focused.

"_Dies iræ…_" It was so loud! Everyone screaming… footsteps falling like rocks thousands of times every second… "_Dies illa…_" Concentrate. "_Solvet sæclum in favilla…_" Finish the prayer. "_Teste David cum Sibyla_…" The gemstones were heating up… "_Quantus tremor est futurus…_" Someone with a calm step and drenched heavy boots was coming closer and closer… "_Quando Judex est venturus…_" A clang against someone's armour… "_Cuncta stricte discus surus…_" A splatter of blood on the ground… "_Lacrymosa, dies illa…_" The frenzy of shouts and shrieks stampeded on… "_Qua resurget…_" No one would miss… "_Ex favilla…_" … one insignificant priest… "_Judicandus homo reus…_" The boots clicked closer… "_Huic ergo parce Deus…_" … and closer… "_Pie Jesu Domine. Donna e-…_"

-X-X-

A trip to the restlessly sleeping volcano north of Yuno was quite without its merits. Lava stewed in its many deep pits; it was covered in sand, soot, and crumbling rock. The wildlife that sprouted here wasn't exactly the friendliest in the world either.

Arche had been invited along by Erita, apparently to pick up some of the basics of teaching. She'd accepted. That was, however, long before she realized that the magma pits had no redeeming features and that she'd quite forgotten her way around the ashen pale caves and pits. They were here helping Yomi, Erita's eldest daughter. That Yomi was older than Arche was a little disconcerting.

Yomi was eccentric. She knew enough about swordsmanship to cleave something in two extravagantly, a handy asset as her weapon of choice was an Amatsan sword and she deemed it very necessary that Amatsan swords were very unique and merited their own separate name of katana. Arche snorted and said it was a sword – it's long, pointy, and has a handle, the name sword would do perfectly fine. Yomi used a katana because there were few situations requiring force that couldn't be resolved by cutting something in half. In terms of appearance, she favoured her mother with her childish face and dark hair; but her dark pearly eyes and obstinately straight hair were her father's.

Naturally, this was less of a lesson and more of a light mother-daughter grilling. Arche wondered why she couldn't just watch the normal teaching method of a normal teacher quietly lecturing a normal group of students (in a very normal manner of course) in a normal room with four nice normal walls and a door to match. The situation was eased slightly by the presence of some of the other professors, namely Fieri, Massenet, Zeta and Ninetta. Admittedly, Zeta was a rather inspirational figure.

However, something was clearly bothering Fieri; she kept oddly still, and her eyes were heavily lidded and focused on nothing, as if in deep concentration. She spoke only when spoken to. Massenet was very quiet, in the sense that he didn't speak very much. He was always playing the flute – he was forever learning old folk tunes, of which there seemed to be an endless amount, and while his performances were by no means capital, they were husky and soothing. Zeta refereed Erita and Yomi's epic and one-sided battles, what with his voice being about an octave below a normal man's. He also had the ability to speak in a low, terrifying growl, which he used as his telling off voice.

"Yomi, do really think it's a good idea to wear sandals in a volcano?"

"It wasn't my idea!"

"What do you mean, you can dress yourself in the morning, can't you?"

"I meant the volcano part!"

"Don't make me use the voice," sighed Zeta.

Silence.

They moved on, Massenet leading them. He clambered casually over a cave mouth, and began a light-hearted amble around the horribly misplaced stalagmites. Erita and Yomi went next, and a minute or so later, their conversation began to grate as it fell into another light mother-daughter grilling. With the pair newly paralysed by Zeta's latest threat, Arche decided that now was as good a time as any.

"Anything you want to tell us, Fieri?" she said delicately. She didn't look at the elder woman.

"No," snapped Fieri haughtily. Arche felt her nerves twinge with annoyance and decided to press the matter.

"I don't believe you."

"Does that matter?" Apparently, Fieri's nerves were twinging all over the place. Her words carried the crude bite that preceded her rage. "I see no need to justify myself to you."

Arche forced her hands to stay still and obedient at her side. "We are colleagues, Fieri…" she began stiffly.

"You will demand nothing of me, _Little_ Mesmer," hissed Fieri. Arche had to fight back a wince. Needless to say, the words were low and angry, but there was an odd echo in them, as though there were two Fieris – one in her normal place and another bellowing from half a mile away. And that characteristic wind that warmed and disturbed nothing it was not asked to as it swept past… Arche knew when someone was beginning to cast, but that was not what had stung her. She turned slowly and purposefully. _We'll see about this…_

"Are you threatening me, dear professor?" she said without mirth. Anger was drying her voice of volume and emotion. Her insides burned. She had every intention of putting this woman in her place. Surely enough, a distinct start on the air had happened around Fieri's staff. She glared at Arche with deep shadows on her face, and Arche kept her own glare as contemptuous as possible. Fieri had a sleep-deprived, drunk look about her. Arche would have perhaps felt a niggle of concern, had her pride not been so stung.

She wondered what answer, if any, she would receive. Both yes and no carried such intriguing implications. Fieri darted over the options again.

Eventually, "Stay out of it," she snapped menacingly, though she lowered her staff.

Zeta decided to try his luck. "What's wrong, Fieri?"

"Where do you get this idea that there's something wrong with me?" she growled indignantly.

"Do you want to answer, or shall I?" interjected Arche dryly; her nerves still had not recovered.

"Hold your tongue, Arche," hissed Zeta sternly. Arche's mouth twisted grimly, and caught off her guard, she kept silent. "You are not yourself, Fieri."

Fieri considered. "I am not feeling well," she explained carefully. "Could we return to the academy?"

"It is late," conceded Zeta. He addressed the whole group, "Let's go."

The thought of a cup of tea being hers to consume just beyond the hour, Arche's irritation settled slightly. She drew her cards and began shuffling them absent-mindedly. The words Little Mesmer were still thrashing across her mind. They stung. Her mother had been dubbed with the title Elusive Mesmer, and Fieri knew this. Arche did not want to be thinking about her mother, and unfortunately, this seemed to be one of the occasions when thoughts of her parents wouldn't take no for an answer.

And so the journey out of the caves passed in a kind of mental wrestling between a very heavy weight in her mind and the task of shuffling her cards while walking. She barely noticed when the cool late evening air swept over her, lifting her hair and stirring her robes, but kept her eyes fixed on her hands and her cards. Focusing, she flicked out one card between two fingers, and set it levitating around her head, and another, then another… Thirteen cards circling her. She continued shuffling the rest of her deck.

She walked into something quite solid and her concentration was snuffed out like a candle. The cards floating around her toppled to the floor. With a fussy snarl, she summoned them back to her left hand, where they flew obediently, then cut the pack with her right hand, slotted the other cards into place and shuffled the completed deck irritably.

Zeta's robed back was very broad. He flicked his head briefly behind him, then stared back down at the reason for his sudden immobility. Arche peered around his shoulder.

"A hoof-print," she said steadily.

"Yes, but that size…"

He had a point. The print, and those marking a staccato gallop across the path around it, was larger than a dinner plate.

"Did Orius tell you about the Lord of Death, Arche?"

"He did," she replied testily. "You're not implying…?"

"I am."

Arche nodded stiffly, dread souring the pit of her stomach. She followed the tracks with her eyes; the road ahead was rocky and difficult to navigate…

"It wouldn't be wise to stay much longer," Zeta dictated, drawing his knife in his right hand and tapping the ground with a staff of white wood. "We don't have chance of challenging it without a faithful healer."

_We wouldn't have a chance of challenging it even with a faithful healer, but each to his own, Zeta…_ Arche thought bitterly. By the sounds of things, the elusive Lord of Death was impossible to kill.

Zeta used the term faithful healer. They had a healer with them, who was Ninetta, as she had grown up as an acolyte and spent five years as a priest. She was technically sound in the performance of healing and exorcism spells and rituals, chief among them being the formidable Magnus Exorcismus. However, while saying the chants and focusing produced the spell, it would never be particularly powerful without an extra little something in it. The incantations were invocations to God, so faith and conviction needed to stand behind the words. Ninetta had neither. After killing her illegitimate child as soon as she could after he was born, she was cast out from the church. Her lover ran, and her crimes of adultery and genocide could hardly go unnoticed. The woman still made a point of making herself scarce whenever anyone from the holy orders came to Yuno. She was not a faith-driven healer, and an exorcist whose prayers were uttered without conviction just wouldn't measure up.

Zeta was also thinking of Ninetta. "Can you cast a warp portal? And how many gemstones do you have?"

"I cannot; I never learned to teleport," Ninetta replied. "I do still have half a pouch of gemstones."

"Right," he acknowledged with a nod. "Arche, how's your deck?"

Arche spread her cards across the air in front of her in a wide fan with one hand. They stayed frozen and suspended as she surveyed them. "Thirteen seals, thirteen blasts, thirteen shields, and thirteen freezing charms," she reported.

"Right, use them sparingly. Erita, Yomi, do you think you two could be sensible until we get back. Massenet, could you try and Soul Burn it if we encounter it? And Fieri? You're a big fat liar. Let us know if it's approaching."

With Zeta's orders and their weapons held at the ready, they began the haphazard trudge back to the city. Massenet had stowed away his flute and stalked along at the front of the group next to Zeta with a bulky bejewelled staff. Arche stayed at the rear of the group. Yomi held her katana in one hand and its scabbard in the other. Ninetta had drawn a long, needle-like dagger.

Arche tried to watch the people at the front of the group, but it became increasingly difficult as the road became less of a walk and more of a rock climbing expedition. She stumbled over the slopes and ditches, and was determined to not stop walking, as Yomi had. The girl began levitating after falling over three times. Levitating was a bad habit – it led to problems later on when old age started to kick in. Levitating involved energy being channelled straight through the caster, rather than a focus such as a staff, and so it was degenerative to the health. A lot of people levitated when they cast, many unintentionally, either because they didn't have a focus item or they weren't using it. The very best magic users could channel energy with just about anything they could find, normally the ones who could speak the Language of the Making fluently as people of the sort were exceptionally good with magic. This made them incredibly dangerous – they could cast any spell they wanted at any time.

There was a snarling noise up ahead, which turned out to be Erita slipping and, though she steadied herself, ending up in a rather undignified position. Arche placed her feet delicately; the angles were odd, and the grit none too friendly. Fieri struggled next to her, not saying a word. Arche eyed the ravine beyond more than warily; an ambush here could be catastrophic.

Arche jumped – there was a heavy scraping sound, followed by a thud, and stones fell, _pink-pink-pink_, into the ravine. She wheeled around, expecting a white horseman…

"_Ouch!_"

It was nothing. Fieri had just fallen over. Arche visibly sighed with relief, and she felt her shoulders sink as she relaxed. Fieri got up, looking sheepish and grumpy.

They walked on, sliding and tripping as they went. Their progress was slow, too slow. Another fall of pebbles some way in the distance… and a deep, deep rumble of something heavy striking the earth, a lot, growing louder which each successive pound against the stubborn rocks. Arche turned to Fieri, who was actually taking a breath to speak.

"Ze-…" was as far as she got. Her eyes widened, then slid shut. She toppled forward, rigid and straight as a board, and landed on some part of her face with a rough thud.

"Oh, bugger," muttered Arche involuntarily. Fieri had succumbed to some kind of fit… Lord of Death was made out to be unbeatable… and it sounded as if it were very near now…

Mind now miles behind, Arche darted forward and lifted Fieri by the shoulders, and the giant hooves were pounding feet away. Her arm flew around the other's ribs, and she had a card drawn between two fingers in her free hand. Less than a second later, she looked up…

… And Lord of Death was glaring down at her.

Her voice dropped, lest any unnecessary noise angered it. She cast a shield in a hiss, and a thought quickly struck like lightning – _what good was this going to do?_ Arche tightened her arm and started to drag Fieri in the opposite direction.

A lance with a thick black blade smashed into the shield from the side, and bounced off with tremendous force. The shield shattered without any protest. The blast caught Arche as well, right in the side as she turned to hobble away with her unconscious companion, whose forehead oozed with blood. _Why was her mind moving so slowly?_ Her feet left the ground and her vision refused to focus as she fell. Her stomach scraped against rock when she'd rather it didn't.

When she opened her eyes, she was staring at the rock face she had just fallen down. The others were shouting now. Zeta's voice shook her bones, and her mind swung precariously back into thinking. Fieri was stirring, and the first thing she did was scream in pain.

"_Ow! What was that?"_

Arche noticed out of the corner of her eye that Fieri's hand was cupped around her injured forehead, above her eyebrow – she'd just missed her eye – but she didn't touch it. Her face was red and she was crying.

There was another scream from atop the cliff the pair had fallen from, a man's this time – Massenet. Arche looked up to see him topple onto his back without a movement of recognition from the rest of his body. He'd failed the Soul Burn. He was thoroughly incapacitated.

If she didn't move, she'd be crushed. She still had one arm around Fieri, and she threw herself back from where they were knelt. Lord of Death landed there on a giant bone white stallion a second later, and the rocks split obediently beneath the force. Arche let out a yelp of concern and quickly threw her fist, clenching her cards, over her mouth. The sight of the knight with a heavy black lance, its bone white armour, with no face behind the helmet, so empty and so ready to destroy… looming over her, at least ten feet taller, about to smash the lance into her head and end her life before she could do anything… it was the most frightening thing she'd ever seen in her life.

Time was behaving strangely. Fieri screamed fully next to her, and her senses sprung to life again. She drew three of her shield cards. It should be able to hold off the attack – if she couldn't rely on them, what was she to do…? Zeta was shouting something from atop the cliff, apparently in another language for all the sense it made. The giant lance was swinging down at disconcerting speeds…! Arche grit her teeth and met the attack with her cards.

The force was tremendous! The clash of attack and defence sent Arche sprawling to the side. She used the momentum of the fall to stumble to her feet and found herself on the receiving end of another dangerous swipe. She blocked it, but it lifted her off the ground and she was stumbling again. A lightning bolt struck Lord of Death, and it had no effect. Arche quickly noticed that her shields were not holding up – there were little black char marks around the corners.

Fieri had run to the side on all fours, screaming. Arche kept blocking, but Lord of Death's attacks were too quick, and too powerful – she kept falling over, and her cards were slowly being eaten away. How long could she keep this up…?

She scrambled to her feet again, wheeled around to meet another lance swipe, was thrown sideways and landed on her hip, with the feeling that it would bruise. It didn't matter, as long as that lance didn't touch her… She was hurled to the side again; another lightning bolt struck… again, no effect. How were they supposed to beat this thing? She was going to be the first to die…

"Fieri, will you bloody well _do_ something!" she shrieked. Her poise was long gone. She caught a glimpse of Fieri as she blocked again – she skidded as the lance struck. The woman was gripping her staff tight, staring at Lord of Death and shaking her head, as though she thought she was hallucinating. "_Fieri_!"

Arche was getting desperate. Where was everyone else? Massenet was… unconscious. Zeta was casting lightning bolts that did absolutely nothing. Fieri was sat there like a lemon. Ninetta and Erita were fussing over Massenet, for all the good it would do! And Yomi… Yomi was doing something, but she was being very slow about it. And Arche was down in the ravine with nothing but some slowly disintegrating bits of paper separating her from her imminent and early death.

She swiped the cards to, then fro against the assault – one card had gone, and another had mostly burned away. What the Hel was that thing? She'd never encountered any weapon that could destroy her guard so quickly. Zeta was barking orders to Erita and Ninetta… _Hurry up!_

With a lance thrust and an awkward parry, her second card was gone. Her remaining card perched flat on her palm… _Swipe_… A corner was gone… _Smash_… The top half was gone. She kept in on her palm still… _Thrust_… Another corner. She blocked the next with the card on the end of two fingers… _Swipe_… Last parry. The shield fragment stood on the tip of her index finger… _Swipe_… Gone.

She summoned a freeze charm to her hand and cast it in a panic. A few icicles littered the lance head, but the attack remained unhindered. She could easily imagine the thing smashing straight through her skull, and the image flashed across her eyes; it made her feel incredibly ill. But… there were scampering footsteps…

Yomi skidded to a halt between Arche and the Lord of Death, her katana crammed with glowing red runes and a tremendous energy radiating from her. It felt warm… She brought her arm back for a swing…

"_Eno va shi stai!_" she screamed. The blade glowed with an odd golden light, and she swept it furiously over the air. Flames began curling out of it, and they sprang into shape. Arche squinted – it looked like a giant winged man with horns… It was gone a second later; it flew at Lord of Death, and with a heavy, solid thud that shook the rocks, it collided and burst into formless flames again. Lord of Death flinched and staggered back…

Arche found a hand wrapped firmly around her own, and quickly saw that it was Yomi's. Yomi tugged her into a sprint behind her and started towards Fieri. She let go of Arche when they reached Fieri, and, grabbing Fieri under the shoulder, she hissed out a wind spell. The hefty hoof thuds were starting again, galloping towards them… Arche followed suit, and followed Yomi.

Yomi had led them up back up the cliff, but on the other side of the ravine from Zeta and Ninetta – Erita was nowhere to be seen.

Ninetta was casting – and judging by the white aura around her, it could only be a spell of exorcism.

_Crash!_ It sounded like a boulder falling a great distance about ten feet to the left of them. And then there was the shriek… a high, piercing shriek from a being of relentless and incurable anger, and an insatiable bloodlust. And the heavy, laboured breathing, that reminded Arche of just how easily a sharp enough object will penetrate flesh, and a heavy enough smash will plough straight through her bones.

Yomi ran forward to meet it. She slipped past a lance thrust, and slashed at the impressive white horse. Catching it in the neck, another scream tore through the cliffs and thick black blood spurted out. The horse, with its raking cry, kicked at Yomi, and caught her squarely in the stomach. She fell flat on her back, coughing violently and completely winded.

Arche ran forward, mind in disarray and body acting on its own. She swept her attack cards in a circle against the lance, and they crumbled into ashes. She growled slightly, and drew one of the seals. With a flick of her arm, it was flung itself at the Lord of Death. She scooted out of the way of the lance again. The seal plastered itself onto its helmet, and it seemed to work. Lord of Death was immobilised.

Except the rune was fading. Naturally, this wasn't a ritual enhanced seal, and was therefore quite weak. It faded quite quickly. The rune on the card was melting away as if it had been doused in water and the ink was running. Arche stood dumb for a second, quite fascinated with dread.

She sprinted over to Yomi, who was sprawled on the ground and breathing raggedly. She gripped the girl by the arm and lifted her to her feet. Lord of Death was recovering from the seal… The furious stamp of hooves was starting again.

"_Dona eis requiem aeternam!_"

A shrill song had alighted the air. Arche wheeled around. Ninetta was the caster. The spell was Magnus Exorcismus. The voice of a kindly woman swept down, and she began her own beautiful song. A turbulent white light exploded on the ground, soft and bright. The high, clear ringing sound… not bells, but chains. They erupted from somewhere within the spell and sprung maliciously on the Lord of Death, around the neck, the stomach, the lance, the horse… everywhere. Little peels of light drifted around like snow… Looking closer, Arche saw they were smooth, white feathers.

Lord of Death was screaming, a full-bodied, deadening scream that reached terrible notes and rang around and shook the heart. Arche's spine tingled unpleasantly.

Yomi grabbed her arm, whispered a quick spell, and they were lifted into the air, and Yomi scooted the pair of them to where Zeta and Ninetta were.

"What are we going to do?" was the first thing Yomi said.

"I don't know," muttered Zeta with something very beyond uneasiness. He stared at the holy spell warily. "I sent Erita back to alert the others…"

"Can we run?"

"It's after Yuno…" Fieri whispered. It wasn't really a whisper, but she seemed to be incapable of normal speech. Her teeth were locked together, and her face was set into a stony, terrified grimace.

There was an uneasy silence.

"… I beg your pardon?" Arche said as calmly as she could. Her voice rose in pitch slightly.

"That's why it's here," Fieri replied in the same stiff tone. "To destroy Yuno. We're just dust on the ground…"

Arche stared, very willing to argue that they weren't dust on the ground, they were the professors, the guardians of Yuno, among the greatest magic users on the planet… apparently able to protect their beloved city and home from anything.

But it was true. They were among the greatest magic users on Midgard, they were the guardians of Yuno, they were trusted with the secrets of the elusive Heart of Ymir, and they were dust on the ground. They couldn't protect their beloved home from this creature. They had been hounded into a corner, had their arms pinned to their sides, their shouts and their screams would go unheard, because this was a foe who was more powerful than them. There was nothing they could do. For all their power, for all their prestige and status, and no matter how beloved their Yuno was, it was all no good. The things they honed proudly in their hearts weren't going to save their lives, and it wouldn't defeat this foe. They were useless inferior humans. Their determination would get them nowhere; love, the airy overrated dream, would get them nowhere; their own strength would get them nowhere.

They were going to die.

Arche listened to the stories of Geffen's fall with a grim face and a by no means insincere, "A terrible shame…" But… this was what it was like. To be presented with an impossible responsibility. Ivas, their wise leader and father, fell, and they still carried on. Their youngest led them out to safety, and that was all they could do. They couldn't stop the stream of deaths and the loss of their home. So High Wizard Arne was indeed more than just a sharp glare… Only four of them survived.

Where had he got the strength?

Arche turned to Zeta, who so far hadn't led them wrong. He wore the same painful frown as the others, one that suggested that he was thinking the same thing as she was. He met her eyes, and nodded in acknowledgement.

He sighed. "Who's up for dying in a blaze of glory?" he said weightily.

Arche made a little noise of assent. Her throat had become very tight.

"I don't see any alternative," Yomi murmured. She drew her katana, and stared at the blade sadly.

Fieri was shaking terribly. She looked guilty and horrified. Zeta had given her a death sentence.

Magnus Exorcismus ended with a last, gong-like explosion, before it slipped out of existence feather by feather. The chains binding Lord of Death melted into nothingness, and the thing screamed in pain. Arche winced.

Zeta had already fired off a spell. A wall of ice erupted in front of their foe, and smashed into glowing crystals a second later. Zeta raised another, and the lance just pummelled straight through. Another, and another… It just wasn't going to work. The red-eyed horse and its faceless rider charged through, the damp _crash_ of the broken wall, the furious cry of the horse and the _stamp_-_stamp_-_stamp_ of the hooves. It darted furiously over the ravine, closing the gap between them too quickly.

Yomi padded forward with her grim, bleak determination. Her katana had flames curling around the blade. She swiped at the armour… _Clang_… It didn't make a dent. She swung it again, this time as though it were heavier. A wave of fire spurted out with tremendous force. _Clang_… Lord of Death flinched.

Arche stared blankly at her cards, the runes looking more like splodges of ink than anything else. What was she supposed to do? The attacks did nothing, the shields broke, the seals faded so quickly, and the charms didn't work. Her mind had never felt so tired… She wanted so much to just go home, be left by herself… _Just leave us alone, just leave us alone…_

Three shields, three blasts… She fanned them out in each hand. She counted her last seconds of immobility in her head, _one, two, three!_ She sprinted forward, sweeping up the blasts with one hand and deflecting the lance with the other

"_Eno va shi stai._" The blasts rocketed forward, pummelling into the chest plate, and she quickly drew three more, lurching back away from the lance. Ice spells were crashing into the fray, seemingly at random. Fieri was beginning chants, and they ended halfway through the invocation, melting away meekly. Ninetta was praying again: _Dies iræ, dies illa…_Yomi's katana and Arche's cards swung madly around, insane with desperation that this day wouldn't be their last. No matter how franticly they attacked, the lance still swung, the horse still roared and the knight still breathed its heavy, low breaths.

Some new voice had joined the spells and the screams… A deep, abysmal hiss, purring a recognisable chant… A swordsman's spell…

The lance struck the ground with a crackle and a deafening _Crash!_ Arche was thrown back, and her vision tumbled wildly. She heard Yomi shout out in surprise. A sharp pain shot through her head, and suddenly her back was leaning on something cold and rough. There was the terrible sound of something sharp going straight through skin, and Yomi screamed. Zeta shouted out to her, but her scream was becoming further and further away…

Arche's senses woke groggily to the sound of alarms… So tempted by the painless, sleeping existence inside her mind… She shook herself, and stood shakily; her eyes swung into focus, and the noises blitzed on like a thunderstorm.

Lord of Death was in front of her. It was in front of Zeta. He slipped past the lance once. It went straight through his stomach and out of the other side. A strangled gasp slipped out throatily, and he was thrown, sprawling to the floor, writhing in pain, and trying to drink the air. Blood pumped out of the messy wound, pooling and splattering the rocks around him.

Fieri screamed now. She closed her eyes, clutched her staff, sank to her knees and screamed. Ninetta prayed, and Lord of Death descended on her. The lance ripped straight through her with a gargling of blood. Arche stared, dumb, incapable of thinking now. The lance was yanked out, and thrust in again, twisted, and pulled out, dragging clumps of ripped flesh and thick ribbons of blood. The horse moved towards Fieri, who had now been robbed of her voice. Zeta was left to die.

Arche darted to Fieri, whose focus was completely gone. She stared at lance, now sparkling radiantly with the crimson sheen. Yomi was nowhere to be seen. She was alone.

Ninetta coughed, and her cold, empty blue eyes focused on something quite out of her reach.

"_Beloved sweetheart bastard…_" she whispered fondly, "_I never saw you again… I never got to see you die… I wanted to kill you so…_"

The air sagged with death, and the scene darkened in the early evening summer light. Arche wanted to be someone else. Protecting her home from anything… this was her impossible responsibility.


	18. Rot in the City of the Dead, please

_Rot in the City of the Dead, Please_

"_Go away! Just leave us alone! Just go away! Leave!_"

Fieri was screaming. Arche felt her voice wasn't working. This fight was going to be very short. Death was a very inevitable thing. There was no hope, but accepting that there was no hope, giving up, was a disgusting thought, and the feeling would be very bitter indeed. _If it bleeds we can kill it, if it bleeds we can kill it…_

The lance came down in a blur of black, striking the ground like a hammer. Arche grabbed Fieri and scrambled to the side.

"Arche…" It was Zeta. She avoided looking at him. His voice was so weak; it had lost its depth, volume, and that vigour and strength that he poured into everything he could. "Where's Ninetta? I need a healer…"

The lance didn't stop moving. Arche was running out of places to run. She cast a few cards, but they did nothing. Fieri kept screaming. _I need more time…_

With an unknown burst of strength, she summoned seven seals to one hand, and cast them roughly towards the Lord of Death. They all struck true. She didn't stop to see how fast the runes were fading… Whispering a wind spell and springing off the ground, Fieri in tow, she dragged them back across the ravine.

She set them down, surprised to find herself stumbling slightly. Fieri was clinging to her robes and sobbing.

"Fieri," she tried. Fieri didn't respond. She just carried on shouting and crying. She tried again, louder this time. No response. She didn't have time for this. "_Fieri!_" she shouted in the woman's face, slapping her furiously across the cheek. Fieri stopped; she looked dazed, even a little awed. "Fieri," now she had her attention, she wasn't about to waste it wondering what she'd just done, "I can't do this by myself. In case you didn't notice, Zeta, Ninetta and Yomi are dead, and we're the only ones left. I am _not_ doing this myself. I _can't_ do this by myself." Fieri still looked stunned. She was being so difficult… "Do you understand me? … _Do you understand me?_" Nod. "Then say it."

Fieri gulped. The place she'd fallen on her face had swelled up. It was the size of a fist, and it sagged over her eye. It was black and oozed blood; it was quite disgusting really. "Yes, I understand you."

"Thank you, Fieri."

What was that whistle on the air?

Nerves twinging, Arche grabbed Fieri and shoved her as hard as she could, and then threw herself out of the way. There was a crash of four heavy legs pounding into rock, and a giant white stallion blocked her view suddenly. The lance heaved from nowhere, aimed at her torso. She slipped past it, clinging to her cards; throwing her arm out, she cast a seal, which latched obediently onto her foe.

Not waiting to see the effect, she darted for the edge of ravine, and ignoring the scolds of her childhood, levitated to the other side. She didn't have very many cards – she needed to borrow Massenet's staff. She had a feeling he wouldn't miss it…

She stumbled slightly as she landed. Where was Massenet…? It took a few seconds for her to find him. He lay flat on his back, and mumbling incessantly…

"Massenet!" Arche shouted on instinct. She sprinted over, then remembered that he probably couldn't hear her. She knelt next to him, then remembered she was here for his staff. There was a roar of a grand fire spell somewhere in the vicinity of Lord of Death… She found the staff quickly… But what were these strange, glittering black shards scattered everywhere…?

She snatched the weapon up quickly, and the inkling that something was very, very wrong intensified. She looked curiously to where the crystal was set…

… _Oh no…_

Where the crystal _should_ have been set. The black shards…

"… _Why…Why… Don't want to see anymore… Don't…_"

_Massenet_…

Feeling her face twist grimly, she threw the staff down and bounded instead for Zeta.

His blood lay in a pool round him, glistening a strange colour in the fading light. The first thing she noticed was the ragged, clinging breathing. His staff was clutched defiantly in a tight, shaking hand.

"Zeta! Zeta… your staff…" She hesitated. This wasn't a compassionate thing to do. "… Please may I have it?"

He looked up. "Arche… are you alright? Where's Ninetta?" His voice was so weak…

"There's no time," she replied as imploringly as she could. Her voice was weak too. "I need your staff."

"Take it then." His fingers loosened instantly, and the staff clattered to the ground.

Arche knelt, picked it up, and… she felt she owed Zeta something, for leading them so well, being so brave for them… She clasped her hand around his, and whispered, "I promise I will do everything I can to set all of this right."

She turned quickly and scanned the area for the Lord of Death before Zeta could make a reaction – Fieri was struggling, back pressed against the rocks, with the white horseman at the bottom of the cliff. She was swinging her staff, trailing flames, like an axe to keep her opponent away.

Arche leapt down swiftly, gathering a fire spell around her. Channelling with a crystal was… bizarre. She felt like she was trying to make casual conversation with a very shady-looking stranger. She released the spell as she landed next to Fieri, and it pummelled into the helmet. Fieri caught sight of her and sprinted somewhere off to the left.

A streak of black thundered down… Arche screamed involuntarily, and threw herself to the side, landing in a huddle, and shrieked out a spell for a shield. A smash of rocks…

A blue wall of energy surrounded her, and she clutched the staff tightly – it seemed somewhat reluctant to follow her orders. This was difficult. Chunks of the cliff broken by the lance were spat in different directions, very noisily.

Lord of Death hesitated. Arche stared dumbly from her shield. Then the horse whirled round to face her. Its rider roared. The lance was raised again.

_What do I do?_ Why had she stayed kneeled? She should get up and dodge it… But she wasn't in a generous enough position for that. Stay here and hold the shield. It'll break!

In her confusion, she ended up trying both. She half-rose to her feet, movements weighted by her jolted focus. The lance soared towards her. The shield didn't hold; it shattered painfully, and she was thrown to the ground again. Mind racing, she used the momentum of her fall to stagger up again, and dodge the lance's next assault.

Heavy spears of fire pummelled into it from the side, knocking the lance askew into the rocks. Fieri shouted for Arche to move. Arche leapt to her feet and gathered a clump of flames at the end of the staff – she found she was lifted off the ground a few inches… she was channelling her spells properly – and threw a rather exuberant fireball into the thing's face.

She set off for open ground; she'd bounded perhaps a few paces when a young girl's voice implored feebly, "Please keep that up."

A fellow sage strode lopsidedly towards them, surrounded by a tumult of flames. Looking closer, Arche saw the flames were clinging to a series of metal fragments, and had taken the shape of a strange lion. Only an enchanter of truly exceptional ability could make such a complex spell…

It was Yomi.

_How…?_

As odd as Yomi's still being alive was, Arche had no time to ask about it. She answered only with a nod, and slipped into her odd and jerky focus. There was an important reason why crystals were made _for_ their caster – Arche, using another mage's staff found she had to force her spells through some kind of mental barrier to cast them. The gusts of wind she summoned heeded her sceptically.

Yomi raised her sword as though it were heavier than normal, and pointed it at the Lord of Death. The spirit surrounding her streamed forwards, the shards gathering into a tight clump and the flames curling indistinctly; they shot forward with a hefty bang into the white chest plate, then swirled back into the lion. The enchantress sprinted after her creation, swinging her katana in a wide sweep across the horse's head.

Fieri's spells seemed sufficient support – she was a powerful caster. Arche however was beginning to feel the effects of not channelling properly. She felt feeble and tired. Gathering her thoughts to a calm, she knelt, trying not to shake, in an attempt to recover some of her strength. The ground beneath her knees shook.

Yomi's gigantic scarlet creation was also formidable. She swung enchantments from her weapon and shrieked simple commands with her more restricted range in the Language of the Making. Its attacks were wide and thorough, though not precise, and clanged against Lord of Death's armour with satisfying volume.

It was starting to stagger. Arche stared dumbly. Yomi swung her sword madly to the right, and the metal shards followed, the scarlet tide striking loudly. It couldn't possibly be right… The thing's will was not deteriorating as it should have been…

Midgard was home to many aggressive creatures, who would eat a human if they could catch one. But they would flee if their prey fought back enough to tire or injure them. So it was true that Lord of Death's sole purpose was to just… kill. Not for food nor sport, but… something else. Why kill? And why so resiliently?

There was some shouting above… The new unfamiliar noise startled Arche further. She raised Zeta's staff in the direction she thought she heard the noise… She could only make out black outlines atop the ravine. At least they seemed to be human.

"_Arche!_" It was Orius. She lowered the staff and her shoulders relaxed – she'd been so tense – and she began to ache all over. She'd never been so relieved to see him.

Someone was descending the cliff, shouting to destroy the "demon", and a white spell began above them. A moment of stillness revealed the rapidly moving blur to be Erita, screaming for her daughter.

Yomi was apparently not listening; she was still barking orders at the clump of fire, which had curled itself around the great black lance. The bone-white horse skipped to and fro at both its own sense and its ruthless rider's sharp kicks. Yomi was slumping over, blood visibly dripping down her front, but her fury remained steadfast.

Lord of Death couldn't swing the lance, with the enchantment wrapped so defiantly around it – it began screaming its barbed, high scream.

All the noise… Arche took several steps backwards… then saw several symbols being etched into the ground in a brilliant white light.

"… _Quantus tremor est futurus quando Judex est venturus cuncta stricte discusurus…_"

The speaker was a high priest, declaring the prayer so fervently. This was an exorcist of genuine faith – this spell was so different from bitter Ninetta's. The light was so pure and bright, the words filled with conviction… white feathers were drifting serenely around the caster.

Lord of Death screamed louder; with a last brutal tug, the lance was free from its prison of flames. Yomi was thrown backwards, and Erita darted to her with vehement panic. But Lord of Death's new target was atop the ravine. Horse and rider galloped past the sages and sprang for the rocks…

"_Pie Jesu, Domine_," the high priest noticed the approaching threat, "_dona eis requiem aeternam!_"

The spell exploded brilliantly – the iron chains erupted from nowhere and sprang immediately around Lord of Death, now suspended in the air in the centre of the ravine. The song of the heavenly beings rang clear, strong and ruthless. There was no movement within the chains – the soulless horseman didn't move, but the strange hollow, rasping voice whimpered against the prayer. The chains continued to tighten, and it screamed. They were gripping something unseen…

The white feathers continued to float on their unseen cold breeze. The thing shrieked still from its white, iron prison. The chains were tugging now. There was a moment of shaking tension… but the resistance gave way soon. The chains sprang away.

It looked as though Lord of Death had been torn apart, but its body remained intact. Lifeless once more, but intact. The thing that had been ripped to shreds… it was some kind of cloud, red, silver, grey… and oddly solid-looking. It was this strange clump of spirit that screamed Lord of Death's last.

The now soulless body toppled to the ground in complete disarray, clanging loudly, especially in the new stiff silence, against the rocks. And it wasn't a whole human that ended up in a heap in the ravine. Just the white armour. Nothing else.

… _It's over_.

Arche stared, fatigued. Relief was settling reluctantly. The armour remained as still as anything dead should. A dry breeze stirred the dust and stones, but the armour didn't move.

Erita was cradling her daughter defensively. Orius was gingerly descending the cliff. As soon as he reached the bottom, he ran to Arche and wrapped her in a tight, warm hug. Arche didn't move. She stared over his shoulder, still not sure how to react.

"How is Zeta?" she asked eventually.

Her uncle drew back, but his hands remained on her shoulders. "Canth is seeing to him now. Although… it doesn't… _look good_."

"… How do you mean?"

"I mean… if he survives, permit me to stress the "if" here, if he survives it is likely the damage done will be permanent. And Massenet… he will be dead by morning."

Arche nodded, mouth now dry.

"Don't be discouraged, my dear," Orius implored gently as her face fell. "You have done well."

She remained stiff, dry and numb. She wanted to go home. The events of the day would strike her later, and she would most likely make a reaction deemed appropriate to such happenings. She wasn't looking forward to it.

X-X-X

Kyo's light-headedness intensified bleakly, and she was vaguely aware of her head tipping back, before the world became heavy, black, and rather pleasant. Because that metallic, red taste spreading throughout her, a delicious glutinous taste that splashed and then seeped over a painful anger… was incredibly satisfying. It nearly placated her. Part of her grinned. Her frustration flared brighter and she waited for the same writhing red replenishment. She could feel it, but it was out of her reach. She got nearer, but it slipped through her tired knotted fingers. Anger exploded inside her again and…

_This isn't me._

The wonderful taste that was placating the anger that wasn't hers… it was bitter. Why had it tasted sweet? And what was…?

_Blood?_

A bleary, completely unwelcome consciousness ripped at the corners of her mind, pressing in until it submerged as completely as the ocean. And then it was gone. Everything was gone. At least it didn't hurt anymore…

She found she had the option of opening her eyes, so she did so. She found herself staring at the stars. Well… some stars. None of the ones she knew. She sat up, frowning, and investigated them closer. White specks against a still black sky. Everything was still… no wind, no clouds, a plain dark landscape, and no aura of light around each star… no shine. She drew her knees up to her chest nervously… This place was… false.

She continued to stare. No living creature belonged here. Why couldn't she be brave? She needed to get out of here, but she seemed incapable of moving. She closed her eyes and wished and ached to slip away into nothingness. To never be plagued by nightmares, visions, voices, to never hear, speak, feel, think… She thought of Hawk and a fresh stab of pain raked her.

The air remained pitilessly still. She would have to move. No amount of hiding and whimpering was going to help her. Slowly, she heaved herself to her feet, a miserable defeated sigh welling up within her as she looked around. The ground was flat, the grass was still, and the dark dead plain seemed to stretch for many miles around her.

She turned a few times, scanning desperately for variety. She found none. Sighing fully, she picked a direction and began walking. As long as she kept walking, she would come across something…?

Dread was settling in.

How was she to defend herself…?

The sounds made in this place were hollow and completely dead. Where there should have been an echo or a ring, there was a brittle silence as the sound ended abruptly. The crackle of the bone dry grass, her thin breath, and the gentle tap of her shoes. The stillness made her teeth clench.

She didn't know how long she walked for. Time didn't seem to matter in this place. She just had to keep walking…

"Where are you going?"

It was hard to tell where the voice was coming from. First she froze, then she looked around tentatively. Stood behind her was a boy, a few years younger than her and a few inches shorter too. She looked at him straight in the face, mind far from ease. He was smiling in a soft, friendly manner. His face was sweet, oval-shaped with dark starry eyes. He looked reasonably well kempt, with something like a magic-user's tunic draped over small shoulders and almost tidy soft-looking brown hair curving around his chin.

"Who are you?" What is this place? What are you doing here? How did you just appear…?

They faced each other, he inquisitive, she anxious. He paused slightly before making his answer.

"That isn't important, not here," he said, smile wavering slightly. "Are you lost? I can show you the way." His face lit up suddenly. "Yes! I can show you the way, and we can be friends. I get very lonely…"

She smiled at him; he seemed genuine, if a little creepy. She was… concerned by the way he said "I get very lonely". He tailed off sadly with a sigh a lot deeper than the voice he was using. Almost dispelling her unease, she reached out her hand, and he took it.

She suspected he was younger than he appeared. He was clinging to her hand, and he seemed very… eager. But who was this little boy, and what were the dark plains he wandered?

"Aren't you ever cold in that?" he asked, frowning slightly at her patches of bare skin.

"I'm not from a cold climate. I wish it were more covering though, and I'm not sure about the colours…"

"Oh no, you'd look very odd in plain colours."

She laughed slightly. "How can anyone look odd in plain colours?"

"You would! Your eyes and hair are too bright. I really like your eyes. How are they purple?"

She was surprised he picked up on that. "I don't know. My mother's were hazel and my father's were blue."

"OK, so maybe if you add blue and hazel together and divide by half, then somehow you'll get purple," he decided cheerfully. She smiled at him. "They're so cool though… but people like blue eyes."

"I don't see anything wrong with dark eyes," she interjected quickly, hoping to dispel any out-of-proportion delusions about acceptance. "In fact, I prefer dark eyes." She blushed, realizing whom she had in mind. Black could hardly be natural, but they suited him so…

"You do?"

"Well, it's not such a shock, you know… like seeing someone open their eyes and they turn out to be really bright; it's like a punch in the face, isn't it."

"You don't think I'm weird, do you?"

She froze for a second, thinking of her inability to lie convincingly. Then she remembered something rational and replied, "You say it as if it's a bad thing."

"Well…" he said, then slipped into silence.

She waited for him to finish, and when he didn't, she continued. "I haven't really known you for very long, but you seem like a nice person. So even you are weird, as long as you're a good person it doesn't really matter. At least, that's what I've been told."

"You'd like me, even if I was really weird?"

"I just don't think being weird is a problem. I'm weird."

He looked very intently at her for a moment, which she tried to ignore. "You don't like yourself," he said slowly, "even though you should. That's weird, but not as weird as me."

"I…" She thought. Her reply made no sense. "I… do have… reasons…" was the best she could manage. "But there are other things that make me weird. I mean, really weird."

"Really?"

"Yes."

He waited for her to start explaining, and after a couple of seconds of silence, he prompted her. "Will you tell me?"

She paused slightly. "I can channel magic in ways other people can't. I see things that are false, and have nightmares that are true."

"Why do you hate yourself?"

"… Because I have no reason to like myself."

"You really think so?" he said anxiously. He lowered his eyes solemnly. It was the first time he'd taken his eyes off her. "You must hurt a lot inside."

That seemed to be all he had to say. His hand was cold. She realized she hadn't asked where they were going. "Where are we going?" she asked feeling more than a little stupid.

"Oh! To the city."

"The city?"

"Niflheim. Nobody feels pain there. Maybe you'll stop feeling pain too!"

"Niflheim," she repeated shakily. "Are you sure it's OK for us to go there?"

"How can it not be if they don't feel pain."

Kyo was not ignorant. She knew what was in Niflheim. "I should imagine they don't feel anything, or they feel lots of pain."

"Oh, but it's such an important place. It's in the roots, you know…"

_Roots? What…?_ "Please, I really don't think this is a good idea…" She was now being led along at arms length. Her mother, her father… they would be there…

"Please don't worry! You'll be really safe there." There was no trace of pleading in his voice. Something quite different…

How could she face them? It was most definitely entirely her fault that her father had died… She didn't want to see them. "Do you know what that place is?"

His reply stopped her heart. He spoke with two voices: his usual earnest boys voice, and a deep harsh growl that spat the words with a malicious frantic excitement. "Oh yes, it's the land of the dead."

He knew. What was he? "There are reasons why the living and the dead should never meet," she implored desperately. His hand was clamped so tightly around hers.

"I know some humans who are trying to break the barrier…"

"Well, they really shouldn't be!" She was beginning to feel heavy and tired. Her movements were slowing, but he continued to drag her along. "Let the dead rest!"

The volume of her voice continued to mount, but his grip had all the leniency of iron. She was one of the few humans who knew what Niflheim was, or indeed that it even existed. The soul is an eternal thing. There were those who sought immortality; they knew this rule well, and so it was discovered, "The well of souls is found in Mimir's tree. A body is born and the soul resides within. While the body dies, the soul endures and returns to Mimir's tree to be reborn again." So why would there be a land of the dead if the soul doesn't die? The body dies and rots. The soul is reborn. What could one expect to find in this land? And so the scriptures of Nebilim, the first of the dark priests, went: "A soul that clings to life is unable to return to Mimir's tree. Only a soul that accepts the inevitable never-ending cycle can progress in it. Those who are unable to move cannot return, and with no earthly body, they cannot stay. So they are sent to Niflheim, a world in the roots, and there they remain until they accept death as part of the cycle."

So what exactly was this child…?

"Don't you realize what you're doing?" A shape was emerging on the horizon. It seemed to glow with a strange, misted blue light. Sorrow, frustration… It was slowly and painfully beginning to dawn on Kyo that there really wasn't a way to make the child relent. His grip was tight and bruising.

There were other grips on her… Wrapped defiantly around her limbs. She was becoming more conscious of them as well. Particularly around her neck. As though there was a millstone there. They were tugging at her as well, and… he seemed to be struggling against them. It hurt…

"_This way… Now… This way… Hurry now, hurry…_" The boy's voice emerged over the top of his words in a leisurely lilt; the growl was louder. "_Rot there… Rot there forever! Go away! Never come back! …_"

She listened to his insane ramblings and the screams that echoed in her mind. _Help… Please… Let me live… Let me live… Don't want to die, no… not die…_

…- _not!_

Her head swam a lot. She couldn't focus. She didn't see what happened next, but it burned, and her knees hit the ground. She suddenly realized that her hand was in view, and there wasn't someone else's clamped around it.

"It seems I was just in time," someone said mirthlessly. A newcomer. _A newcomer… in the land of the dead? What's going on?_ She looked up to see this person striding towards her, footsteps making those dead echo-less noises. She couldn't see the child, but this man… he had not saved her out of compassion. There was nothing about him to convince her otherwise.

The fact that he moved so decisively was not good, she realized. With a heave of her hands, she stumbled to her feet, misjudged her balance and fell backwards… she tried to move again, but a cold, thin-fingered touch coiled around one arm, and another curled beneath her chin. She shivered and recoiled, lifting her head to avoid the hand.

He was sat directly over her, his face barely inches from hers, definitely a lot closer than she felt comfortable with. She froze. The first thing she saw was his eyes. Hollow and amber. They were deep-set and gazed lazily at her. The skin around them was white and clamped tightly over his skull. The scars etched across his features were too strategically cut and symmetrical to be common battle wounds…

"She is no good to me in this world," he drawled.

_He's talking about me._

She tried to escape his grip, but the fingers beneath her chin wrapped around her neck. Her was breath was cut short.

… He wasn't strangling her. She was confused by that. Who was he? Was he on "her side" or not? She tried asking, one or other. She wasn't sure which one. She'd forgotten how to speak.

The grip tightened, and her mouth stopped moving. "You must return now. Rest assured, child: we will meet again." His voice dropped to a hiss, and his thumb pressed harder against her throat. "_Viastes…_"

She didn't hear the rest. The word pounded into her head like a hammer, and she was submerged in a deep black void again.

X-X-X

"Ruriko, I don't suppose you have any theories on what this "power" is of Kyo's is and why she can use it?"

Ruriko shushed him irritably. She had laid out a slightly grubby deck of cards with clotted detachment. After turning them over without surveying the results she gathered them back in and shuffled them slowly.

After an airy silence, she said, "I want to go to Yuno."

Taiken felt his annoyance flare up. "What does that have to do with Kyo?"

"Shut up! It does have something!"

"Ruriko, you're overreacting…" Draco tried.

"Shut up! I want to go to Yuno, what's wrong with that?"

"All of you shut up!" snapped Hawk menacingly. Kyo's steadily degrading health didn't do any favours for his temper.

Chisel still seemed to be in a reasonable mood. "Has she talked to you about it?" he inquired steadily.

"Yes." Interest descended on Draco's face. "She says something's after her…"

"That hates," interjected Ruriko.

"Indeed. Also, these creatures are just empty shells, it's the thing possessing them that we need to worry about," the hunter finished mirthlessly.

"Why's it after her?"

"She doesn't know."

Taiken sighed. "… Handy," he murmured dryly. "Ruriko, you still haven't answered my question."

"Oh! … Um… yeah, well…" She bit her lip. She paused. "Have you ever felt such a strange soul?"

"No, because none of us are sages."

She recoiled, flushing slightly, and shakily began an explanation. "Well, your soul makes up who you are, and it's also the bit that lets you channel magic. Kyo's soul is really… odd. Have you never noticed?"

"… No, because none of us are sages."

"Don't nitpick!"

"Well, since you are a sage, can you tell us exactly what it is about her soul that's so unique?"

Ruriko flushed again and grumbled something about "it doesn't work that way". Taiken didn't shift his stance or avert his frown, making it clear that he was still looking for an answer. Extracting information from Ruriko had never been a problem in the past, excluding the times before she was fluent in common-tongue. But during those times, she'd been eager to learn and very enthusiastic about their bitty and slightly awkward conversations. Sighing, she conceded, "We'll ask her about her parents."

"She'll get upset about that," Hawk informed them quickly.

"Why?"

"She thinks you'll all hate her when you find out."

Draco stood up, a slightly more impressive sight than such an average everyday action should be. Draco was a rather impressive young woman, with her dark desert beauty and sharp eyes veiling a sharp, aware mind. Also, this was the first time in the discussion she had surfaced to express her own view. "A group of people such as ourselves certainly understands that there is infinitely more to a person than their parentage."

"You think so?" Ruriko burbled in bewilderment.

Draco smirked, a little mirthlessly. "You and I were disowned because I helped you become a sage. Taiken was found alone and parentless as a baby and adopted by a young couple who already had an infant son and another child on the way." Her smile broadened. "Hawk and Oshi could've just materialised from thin air, and Chisel's a freak because he's normal."

"So normal that he's been betrothed to a girl from the age of six," Hawk added. He'd always found this little fact about Chisel incredibly amusing. Chisel replied only with a slight inclination of the head and a frown.

"Ah, that's right… You were abandoned…" Oshi said, casting Taiken a slightly curious look.

"That's right," Taiken replied mildly. Oshi seemed to be searching for another reaction, although he didn't find it; Taiken smiled. "It doesn't bother me. Fair enough, I was abandoned, poor meek little me – but I was found. For me, that's what's important."

The bard grinned, reminded of his parents in Yuno. As a child, he had been quite surprised to learn that his family wasn't actually his family. He wasn't _really_ bothered though – he wasn't pining after parents who didn't want him. He'd just been a bit puzzled as to why Figaro and Lenette, his "parents", had cared for him so well even though he wasn't their son, but then he realized, and he gleefully recited the answer to his "big brother" and "baby sister" – our parent's are full of love, he declared, and I'm going to be too. The siblings entered into a pact together, which Rowan, being the eldest, had written down for them in his best handwriting: "We promise to love each and every person for who they are. Everyone is our beloved sibling. We shall be truly strong and noble in our hearts, because all the world deserves to be loved." They signed their names at the bottom in age order, Rowan, Taiken and Veretta. Draco said she found the whole story very funny.

"I'm sorry I'm so normal, but what's so bad about Kyo's parents?" Chisel remarked mildly.

Hawk sighed and his face fell – he'd been asked to not recite this piece of information. But then, it was in order to help Kyo. "Her mother was a dark priestess."

Taiken felt his face twist in puzzlement. "I didn't know dark priests were allowed to have children if they weren't to be raised within the guild," he said slowly.

"They're not normally," the hunter replied flatly. "They believe that love is very overrated, or something to that effect, the basic idea being that they only have children to continue the traditions of the cult. Also, chastity is a very valuable quality in a sacrifice or altar girl or whatever, so the priestesses normally aren't allowed to have children."

"But Kyo's father wasn't a dark priest?"

Hawk choked out a laugh. "Not quite," he articulated mildly. "He was a paladin."

"Oh, I think I get it now…" Ruriko mumbled in a sure, low voice. She looked Taiken straight in the eye. "It's an incredibly unlikely union – he holy and she dark. That probably has a lot to do with it. And you know how dark priests work?"

"Trampling all over your morals and being the object of focus in a disgusting inhumane ritual in order to improve your own power, correct?" Taiken replied.

"It's along those lines, yeah," the sage conceded, glancing around nervously at everyone else. "Well, her mother did that trampling thing lots of times, so it's very likely that Kyo could have inherited her mother's powers."

Oshi spoke up. "Does this mean what I think it means?" he asked.

"I don't know; what do you think it means?"

"With the right tutelage, Kyo could use shadow magic?"

Ruriko seemed to be caught off guard. "Ah… Well… I suppose so…"

"Is it really necessary though?" Chisel pondered.

"Have you ever fought a dark priest?" inquired Oshi sharply. After the room replied no, he carried on in a perfectly reasonable tone, "Don't. They're a real pain."

"Also, in case you didn't notice," Draco continued, "the bard and dancer's lore doesn't really accommodate to being particularly aggressive."

Taiken felt the only way to reply to this little stab was to stick his tongue out at her. Although, if he were ever pulled into close-quarters combat, he would often need rescuing.

"Fair enough, I suppose… Oh, that's a good idea, Oshi!" Ruriko burst out suddenly. "She has a lot of potential as a real magic user anyway… Wow! She could… you know… she could…"

"Be a dark priest without raping her humanity for all that it's worth?" Taiken supplied jauntily.

"Yes! Exactly!" Ruriko beamed.

There was a strangled gasp and a cough. Hawk leapt to his feet. Kyo sat up so abruptly, and immediately hunched over into a coughing fit.

Taiken felt a little stunned. When Ruriko woke up from a little collapsing session, she did so slowly and jaggedly. Kyo was acting as though she'd just escaped being drowned – she coughed extravagantly a few more times before gasping in great lung-fulls of air; she sat huddled on the bed, seemingly unaware of her surroundings, shuddering and breathing quickly.

Hawk approached warily, and knelt down next to her.

"Kyo?" he tried.

The frantic, jagged movements of her breathing subsided slightly, and she turned very slowly to look at him.

"Kyo, you're safe," Taiken added calmly. This seemed to have an effect on her. She surveyed her surroundings this time, and the people in it. She stared at everyone with something along the lines of fatigue on her face.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

Kyo's head swivelled slowly. "… I'm not really sure. I was… somewhere else. Are you familiar at all with… the concept of Niflheim?"

… _What? _"Niffle?" Taiken repeated incredulously.

"The name sounds slightly familiar; I think I read it somewhere…" Ruriko mused.

Hawk grumbled something along the lines of Ruriko's read everything somewhere. She did have a rather abundant personal library. "What is it?" he asked in an audible tone.

Kyo almost looked abashed, as though she thought she wouldn't have to explain it. "Well… it's where souls who… the souls of people who haven't accepted death…" Taiken's face was stabbed with a frown, and he heard similar reactions from everyone else. Kyo startled slightly. "Ah! Um… well… you have to accept the cycle to be part of it. The cycle of life and death. And… if you don't accept death as part of the cycle, then you're sent to Niflheim until you do."

There was a dramatic pause truly deserving of such a poignant speech from such an unlikely speaker. "Wait, so, time-out for difficult souls?" Taiken tried.

This drew bewildered frowns from all around the room.

"Ah… I think it's possible to think of it that way, but…" She raised her eyes in thought, face glazed with telltale signs of someone trying to remember something from long ago. "'A soul that clings to life is unable to return to Mimir's tree. Only a soul that accepts the inevitable never-ending cycle can progress in it. Those who are unable to move cannot return, and with no earthly body, they cannot stay. So they are sent to Niflheim, a world in the roots, and there they remain until they accept death as part of the cycle.'"

"Wait, Kyo, could you please repeat that?" Ruriko asked carefully. She opened her diary and raised her pen. Kyo complied, and Ruriko quoted her. "… Where did you read that?"

"I didn't… It's an extract from the scriptures of Nebilim. Someone read it to me."

"Your mother?"

"_No_! … No. I mean…" She turned and looked at Hawk, and he lowered his gaze apologetically. She carried on stiffly. "No, it wasn't my mother. She wouldn't."

"Kyo," Taiken began. She didn't look at him. "None of us mind who your parents were. We're not like that. So…"

"My father married her to protect her," she blurted out suddenly. "She didn't want to be one of them anymore, but she was born into it and there was nothing she could do… Father married her and when I was born they lived in a little house on the northern border…"

"So you were hiding?"

"Yes, they were."

"How did you end up in Arie then?"

"Because there's something that could mask my mother's trail. After my father died, the protection of the crusader's lore stopped working."

"What do you mean by something that could mask your mother's trail?"

"There are all kinds of seals placed there, in the Clock Tower I think. The seals created a kind of mask around the village, so they wouldn't be able to follow Mother by the spells placed on her…"

"Yeah, the Clock Tower…" Chisel mused. "Someone needs to go have a good poke around in that time-telling appendage."

"So that will that be our next destination?" asked Oshi.

"No. It will be my next destination." The blacksmith straightened lazily. "However… we've just discovered another lead. It seems the dark priests have the greatest understanding of the nature of Midgard. The scriptures of Nebilim will apparently provide us with a well of information, so knock on the gates of Glast Heim and see what you can find."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate a visit from us," Taiken said sardonically, "but hopefully not something completely out of our league."

"This isn't going to be a walk in the park," Draco broke in sharply. "Remember, these are dark priests; they're ruthless, and immensely powerful. They will not hesitate to kill us."

It seemed being an assassin meant dealing with dark priests at least once. "Indeed. They are ever in need of people to kill. We must do this carefully."

"'We _must do this_ carefully'?" the other assassin said after a pause. "I was hoping you'd be against us going at all."

"I believe that with thought and care, we can infiltrate Glast Heim."

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Hawk suddenly expressed his thoughts on the affair. With renewed composure, he continued, "Glast Heim. A place submerged in something that can and did corrupt the very laws of nature. And we're going to waltz on in, tap the dark priests on the head, and ask could you possibly lend us the forbidden book of darkness."

"It's along those lines, yes. Look. Nobody ever said this would be done without difficulty."

"Many expeditions to Glast Heim have failed; what makes you think ours will succeed?" snapped Draco.

"I'm sure Ruriko has a way that someone from the outside can track us."

"And what do you think makes magic work? The soul and nature of the place is broken; no doubt any spells will go just a bit haywire."

"Wait…" Ruriko had resurfaced from her diary. "Sis, you know I learnt how to speak from aunt Yuuko?" Draco nodded. "Aunt Yuuko's a witch. She's a practitioner of a lore called _Trestes_ – in common-tongue, that means "pursuer". I'm sure I can make my arts work there."

"If the guild mistress says so," Oshi submitted quietly, "then we have no choice but to obey."

Everyone in the room stared at Ruriko, who was relentlessly oblivious to this fact. She was sucking her thumb. "Wait, it's up to me?" she said eventually. She looked a little sheepish. "What do you think, Taiken? Where shall we go?"

Honestly, Taiken wasn't overly keen on the idea of going to Glast Heim. Draco had raised a very, very valid point: _what will make our expedition any different than those who have already failed._

Unfortunately, it was the entire purpose of the guild to investigate change. They had been supplied with a lead, and now they had to follow it. Inevitably, their endeavours would eventually take them to the Nightmare City…

"Let's go to Yuno first," the bard dictated to his attentive audience, trying to convince himself that he wasn't taking them to Yuno in order to put off going to Glast Heim. "There should be something fairly interesting about Glast Heim lurking in the library somewhere, and we can take Kyo to see Orius. Also, I want my parents to see what I'm like at twenty years old," he finished jauntily. "Honestly, it's an overnight transformation; I'll double in mass and turn green."

"Yeah, let's do what Taiken said," the guild mistress decided.

"Hey, Chisel – do us a favour and at least stay with us for my birthday."


	19. Creatures of the Dark

_Creatures of the Night_

With Kyo seemingly well, the God's Cry decided not to trespass on the prince's hospitality for much longer – they would instead go to Chisel's house, their usual place of residence whenever they came to Prontera.

Taiken took the opportunity of having a word with high priestess Hester – he was decided on their going to Glast Heim; he requested an adequate priest to accompany them, saying he would pay whatever the price.

Hester was surprised they were thinking of such an expedition, although offered to come herself.

Taiken blinked. "Pardon?"

"I shall accompany you," she repeated patiently.

The bard shifted uneasily, and looked to Draco, who was equally baffled. "We would certainly appreciate it, but you must be… _expensive_. I mean, no offence, ma'am, we wouldn't hesitate to employ you if we could afford it, but…"

"Oh, no, I shan't ask for payment."

He turned bright red. "Ah, now…"

"I have my own reasons to go to Glast Heim, and I had been thinking of organizing my own expedition, but if you're going and are in need of assistance, I might as well comply."

"Well, fair enough… But what could a respectable member of the clergy such as yourself have to do in Glast Heim?"

"One of my acolytes suffered at the hands of the dark priests, the result being that her soul was shattered. If I know what they did to her, then I may be able to help her." Her composure wavered slightly, and she sighed woefully. "I'm glad you have presented me with this opportunity; I should be foolish not to accept. I have noticed of late that… her life is beginning to fade. She will not live much longer if I can't cure her."

Taiken nodded gravely, accepted her help and promised to write when they needed her. They parted ways and set off towards Chisel's home.

Chisel's parents lived in an old, narrow house near the centre of town, by the outskirts of the noble's district, adequately equipped to house a small working family. Chisel's father was a fairly high-ranking blacksmith, with many generations of fine blacksmiths in his ancestry, so the family was quite well to do.

Though not enough so that they lived in a house able to comfortably provide lodging for an extra six people.

Or rather seven, as it turned out.

Chisel had a comfortable friendship with his fiancée, Chundocu, an alchemist from Luoyang, and she had been informed of his coming to Prontera, and although he had mentioned it would be nice to see her but she shouldn't trouble herself, she'd cancelled several previous engagements to come and see him.

"You see, I think it's impossible not to like Chisel," Hawk finished when they had all been welcomed in. Chisel's father Raul was out on business, and his sister Excel had left early that morning for a trip to Payon, but his mother Carmina was there to welcome them. She was well kempt, and, judging by the manner of her treatment to Chisel, very motherly, with exuberant amounts of both bossiness and kindness. She called him Daemond, and was fussing over him as soon as he was inside. She chivvied everyone into the living room and began making tea.

Chundocu was waiting for them there. The first thing Kyo noticed was how brown she was. Her skin, hair and eyes were all very brown. The second thing she noticed was what a nice, full, hourglass figure was wrapped in her plain pleated dress. Upon seeing Chisel, she marched jauntily across the room and threw herself into a hug with him.

Obviously the rest of the guild was well known among Chisel's relatives.

"Taiken! I'm very happy to see you. How are you?" Chundocu enquired in the same enthusiastic manner. She seemed very friendly.

"Very well, madam; I can see you are well also."

She laughed. Her eyes swooped over everyone else, and she shook hands with each person individually, enquiring after their health and pressing them on their most poignant habits.

When she reached Kyo, the dancer felt her face turn red. Chundocu's amiableness wasn't stinted. Kyo bowed as politely as she could. The other seemed slightly surprised by this level of civility, although returned it. "Your name is Kyo, isn't it?" Kyo nodded. "Chisel told me about you; I'm very pleased to meet you."

They shook hands, Kyo nodding and trying to articulate that she was pleased meet her as well. She saw Hawk smiling at her from across the room, and she felt less nervous.

She'd done her best not to talk to him on the walk from the castle; she did feel hurt that he'd told the others about her parents. Although he noticed, approached her, explained himself, and offered a full apology. And thus the resent she'd been trying to harbour dissolved instantly.

"So where will you be going from here?"

"We're staying in Prontera for one more day, and we'll be leaving tomorrow evening after celebrating Taiken's twentieth; and we still need to take Kyo clothes shopping. The stuff Taiken got in Comodo's a bit big…"

"You should have taken her with you, Taiken."

"… Sis?"

"Yes, Ruriko?"

"There was a really pretty new dress in that Tolleranza shop…"

"When was the last time you took a job?"

"Ah, well…"

"You have enough really pretty dresses to last until judgement day…"

"But Sis!"

"If you're going to buy new clothes, let's not make it any more really pretty dresses."

"They _are_ all you wear, Ruriko…"

"That's not true! I have those overalls…"

"You found my overalls?"

"_Ruriko_!"

"Yeah, Chisel, while we're here, I never go through your stuff when you're away…"

"You big fat liar! I know you go through my stuff. And the rest of you too."

"I don't!"

"Then why am I always finding biscuit crumbs in my jumpers? Oh Biscuit Fiend Taiken?"

"Wait, is it really _that_ obvious?"

"And you can stop sniggering, Draco, I know you steal my shirts."

"But I don't eat biscuits…"

"They always smell of you when I get them back. You or Hawk… Say what you like about Oshi being grumpy, at least he isn't an evil clothes thief."

"I told you we should've put it all in the wash when he came back…"

"Way to go, Ruriko."

Taiken's choice of birthday celebration was a quiet family dinner at Chisel's, a walk to Yuno, and a visit to his parents.

Then followed by an expedition to Glast Heim…

Also, it seemed that "quiet family dinner" was vaguely contradictory. With Chisel's father also, the party would consist of ten people, at least half of them known for being fairly boisterous.

Raul arrived about an hour after the guild had. It was clear where Chisel had learnt his friendliness from, and also where he'd got his… _largeness_. Chisel, like Hawk, was tall and fairly muscular. Raul was about six foot six with a ridiculously broad frame. He looked fairly frightening, certainly not somebody to pick a fight with. But a deep, booming, jovial laugh and the familiar grin, so reminiscent of his son's, dispelled this slightly. He ruffled Chisel's hair, and Ruriko immediately bounded up to him to be picked up. He didn't wait for an invitation from Taiken.

As shy as she found herself in this new company, Kyo found she enjoyed the evening. Carmina, in keeping with being a good mother, turned out to be a rather proficient cook.

"Most alchemists are great cooks," she announced grandly. Chisel's family were immensely proud of their profession.

They were incredibly friendly. Crammed around the scrubbed wooden table of the cold candle-lit kitchen… She often felt left out by the deeply personal conversations, although Hawk especially made an effort to include her. She finished her meal before everyone else, or so she thought, and Carmina took only a moment to notice.

"There's plenty more; do eat up," she pronounced with a wide smile, gesturing to the rather abundant array of food.

"Oh! Are you sure?" Kyo had always been told to be careful she wasn't greedy.

"Mum always cooks loads whenever I bring everyone round," Chisel joined in, "even though I tell her to not; we don't eat much."

"They're all just scraps! They need feeding up."

Taiken scoffed at this, telling elaborate stories of miniatures of log cabins made from sausages, sandwiches of many hundred layers, and, his own particular favourite, a cake that needed to be climbed.

The usual practice was to sit down to cards after dinner; although everyone agreed they were too tired. And so the sleeping arrangements were discovered to be something along of lines of "pick a spot on the floor of Chisel's room". The general gist of this was that they slept in a pile of dirty laundry.

-X-X-

"Right, I will definitely be asking for the remaining high wizards to be sent to Yuno."

Lord of Death's attack had left the Sage Guild short two professors, possibly three. Canth and Marius, though they had tended Zeta as best they could, had been unable to completely repair the damage done. His life was saved but…

"You're paralysed," Marius explained stiffly. Orius looked at him carefully. The silvery-blue spirit spheres he had summoned to assist him flickered slightly as he said it. When Canth didn't follow the sentence up, he said, "It's likely you won't walk again."

Zeta, tired and still quite puzzled as to the evening's events, replied only with, "Oh."

Orius felt whatever tension was gripped in his shoulders sink woefully.

"Certainly, I will address the high wizards about coming here." Marius straightened. "I am sure they will be glad to help. I'll remain here also to help Zeta become at least mobile."

Zeta still made no reaction.

It was quite late now. Zeta had been taken to his room, and should've been asleep. Yomi, also having suffered some rather grievous injuries, had gone to bed as soon as her wounds were closed. The Retirement Room was silent, save for the crackle of the fire, the atmosphere sunken and dead. Erita was sidling around the bookshelves, pulling out books, opening them and looking at them. Fieri remained still and tense in a chair in front of the fire, the swelling on her forehead wrapped in some kind of herbal paste.

Marius, along with Canth and Arche, had set out to retrieve the armour in order to seal it. Certainly, it would need to be taken to Gonryun to be sealed on holy ground. Or it would need to be cleansed of whatever made it habitable for that strange wisp; or they would need to contact the Blacksmith Guild to have it destroyed. Either way, it should all be over soon. They had various options.

"These creatures…" Erita spoke suddenly. "They are causing a lot of trouble. I wonder how many of them are there?"

"Who knows," Orius replied, somewhat bitterly. "They must be very old…"

"What makes you say that?"

He looked at her directly. "No human can create things like that. Very well, a necromancer can create his own avatar, but nothing like as powerful as these creatures."

"If no human can create them, then how did they get here?"

"The fact that we don't know seems to say that they are of the ancient world. Surely before the Guerre te Muladi, or we would have some record of them."

The accursed war of division had destroyed records of many generations of knowledge. Among other things, an entire city was wiped off the map. And a city of no mean size either – it was larger than Prontera apparently. The most ancient capital, and they had no information on it, not even a name.

Erita hung her head slightly, and continued pretending to read her book. Time passed slowly. What seemed like hours later, a knock on the door broke the dry atmosphere somewhat.

"Enter."

As he hoped, Marius stepped through the door, with Canth and Arche in tow.

Arche avoided looking at him; she seemed slightly distraught. Canth too seemed cast down. Marius' facial expressions came in only two varieties with little in-between: "quite happy" and "quite grave".

"What happened?" Orius demanded in mild panic. Marius was wearing the Quite Grave face.

"Nothing," the monk replied instantly. _Oh no…_ "It was gone."

"_Gone_?" It felt like a hammer blow to the chest.

"Taken," Marius confirmed, "or wandered off of its own accord."

Orius felt he needed to sit down, but didn't trust his legs to carry him to a chair.

"We must hunt it down," Marius continued after some moments of silence. "I'll wager it will come back; we need to take care of it before then. Who knows what would've happened today were it not for Arche and the others."

The cardinal sage nodded grimly. Naturally, Canth would be one of the party. He may indeed need to apply to the Payonese tribes for a good hunter… He knew someone who would be perfect for such a mission, although there was no guarantee she would comply.

"Canth, I fear your services are required further… unless you can name a more able exorcist than yourself?" Canth shook his head, and expressed his certainty of his taking up the task. "I will apply to Yuuko for her help as well."

Arche sniffed dubiously. She'd always found Yuuko's all-knowing and almost apathetic nature quite trying. Yuuko's sister, Senko, was married to a Morrocan noble. The first two children born into this marriage were a pair of daughters, three years or so apart in age. The elder was named Dariko, and the younger Ruriko. It was Yuuko who was enlisted to help the two become wizards. Dariko was a difficult child, and profoundly set against taking orders. Ruriko, on the other hand, drank in the Language of the Making from her infancy. If there were somebody that Ruriko owed her talents to, it wasn't Orius or any of the other professors – it was Yuuko.

Senko was disposed to object to her sister, what with her husband's disapproval of the sage profession. Since Senko had married, the sisters had not been on good terms. When Ruriko and Draco were disowned, Yuuko also detached herself from her brother-in-law and his wife. Her home had since been in the Payon mountain range. She was a practitioner of the Pursuer lore.

"Uncle, I am perfectly able…"

"No, Arche. It is out of the question," he added when she went to protest.

-X-X-

There was a good reason why Prontera was so well loved by shoppers – the market place. It had to be at least a good square mile, and featured every kind of stall imaginable. And then there were the shops on the streets surrounding the place. There were some shops that just sold cheese, or truffles, or fruit, or lace… Although should anyone want anything basic, they'd have some slight trouble.

Ruriko had been accused of being dopey. She really wanted the dress in Tolleranza that she'd seen yesterday afternoon, but she knew she wouldn't be able to persuade her sister to buy it for her, and she couldn't ask Taiken either, as it was his birthday. It had been quite a while since she'd taken a job, and buying the dress herself would probably clear her out.

Inhabitants of Midgard had very specific jobs, the reason why Ruriko was definitely a sage, even though she was closer to a witch, why Hawk was definitely a hunter, and so on. Job offers were sent to the Cardinals of the different guilds, and the Guild master would send one of their members to take care of it. Occasionally, they might get a request for someone in particular, but essentially, it was up to the Cardinal. Since the death of wizard's Cardinal, Ivas, the better sages (ones adept enough to cast wizard spells) were in high demand.

A very popular scenario was that someone wanted an expedition to one of the deep places of the world – a person may want to go themselves, or they would hire someone to lead the expedition and bring back information. These people were usually alchemists or collectors. Alchemists tended to lead their own expeditions. They would decide whom they might need to go with them, and send requests for assistance to the various Cardinals, usually with descriptions of the qualities needed, and then the Cardinal would choose prospective candidates for the task, and send them back to the one doing the hiring, along with the price of taking such-and-such-a-person. The employer would select their taskforce, and send the requests back to the Cardinal along with their payment. The employees were then sent their job descriptions and ninety percent of the pay. All in all, there was a lot of paper flying around. The Assassin's Guild involved infinitely less complication apparently.

Oshi and Draco worked as a duo, and worked as bounty hunters. Hawk received job offers from the Hunter's Guild, where he was often asked to be a bodyguard. Ruriko was asked to translate lots of old texts, but she didn't receive any jobs that required fighting. This was because she was in charge of maintaining a seal in the area. If the seal weakened, she would notify Orius, and replenish the seal with or without assistance. She got regular grants for this, though Orius knew full well that the others of the guild could make an adequate income, so it wasn't very much. Chisel tended to do his own thing. He was an explorer; he'd take a job of crafting something on request if he needed to. Taiken would be sent music from various theatres and noble's courts, where he would called upon to entertain at banquets and formal dinners.

But today, the only people who were being treated were Kyo and Taiken, the former much to her embarrassment. She wasn't good at accepting the kindness of others. She chose clothes just like a dancer: light and flouncey stuff. And Taiken got bard's presents, like the paper they write music on, some new guitar strings, and even a new harp.

Ruriko was actually the one who got him the harp, sighing slightly as she paid for it. She liked Taiken's harp playing best, and they didn't have one at home.

Taiken was a good grateful recipient of gifts. "Aw, Ruri dear," he said dotingly, "I wasn't expecting something like this. I thought I was just getting more socks?"

"Just promise me you'll play it to me lots. Come on, let's go to the library and get a book of tunes or something…"

Hawk stepped in here. "OK, I'll do that." He was stuck for ideas; he never knew what to get anyone.

"You know what," Taiken suddenly remarked as they stepped out of the music shop, "we seem to have lots of money. Somebody care to explain?"

"I do," Draco said slyly. "After Kyo woke up, I visited the prince to negotiate a price for the culvert job. Also, he happened to let slip of someone escaped from a prison in Morroc. He said it'll be good pay if we put him back, so that'll be mine and Oshi's next job."

"And," Chisel waved his hand in the air, "I used to hide money in various places around my room when I took jobs at home, and I just found a load."

"Squirrel," Hawk muttered under his breath. Ruriko giggled and he nudged her with his elbow.

The sage, having settled her side of the present-buying, told everyone she needed to run off on her own for a _very_ short while, and dashed off without waiting for Draco's approval.

She'd always like Tolleranza. The dresses really were very pretty. There was a service where they made dresses especially for a particular person, although she'd probably never be able to afford it. She stepped through the door, and waved at the shopkeeper as he greeted her with a smiley good morning.

"So which really pretty dress are we looking at?" someone said nonchalantly in her ear.

She startled and whirled around. It was Oshi, frowning and scanning the rows of clothes.

She was about to reprimand him on sneaking up on people, but then actually remembered what he said. She felt her face flail slightly as she caught up with what was going on, then pointed at it – a puffy white one with long sleeves, a hood, and a bow at the back.

His eyebrow rose slightly, then he shrugged and said quietly, "Alright," and began digging around in one pocket.

"Ah, Oshi? I'm not sure you should…"

"That one is in your size, isn't it?" Even as he asked, he was picking it up and holding it up to her. She nodded.

"Oshi, wait…" As desperate as she had been to persuade someone to buy it for her, it now struck what a large favour it was. "You really don't have to."

But he was already at the counter, saying as few words to the shopkeeper as possible. He turned back to Ruriko to check that her favourite colour was pink, for a ribbon for the parcel to be wrapped in.

"Oshi, you really didn't have to…" she tried again, face turning red, as he handed it to her.

"Just don't tell your sister it was me, alright?" It seemed an odd condition, but she had no trouble agreeing to it.

"Thank you, Oshi!"

She was so pleased with this strange feat of generosity on his side that she held his hand as they made their way back down the street.

"So where did you run off to, Miss Ruriko?" Draco said with some degree of sternness.

"Oh?" She was taken by surprise. "Nowhere! Nowhere at all…"

"You're a very bad liar," Oshi whispered in her ear.

Draco certainly didn't look convinced, but she didn't say anything else about it.

"Well, it's a good job Hester isn't asking for any payment," Taiken said with a smirk, "or we'd be really screwed."

x-x-x

Kyo gaped at Taiken – he was certainly light-hearted about the day becoming steadily more expensive, what with his presents, her clothes, the necessaries for their journey to Yuno, and also a fairly abundant lunch. She wondered just how much money they'd had in storage to be quite this exuberant.

Hawk saw her face, and smiled. "We're not usually _this_ extravagant," he explained, evidently amused, "but we do get quite a bit for what we do. Oshi and Draco are basically bounty hunters, and pretty good ones too. Chisel and Taiken are usually in high demand, so they get a lot for what they do."

She vaguely took on board what he said, but it still struck her that they should be so rich. "I heard Oshi once say that you don't earn a fantastic amount of money; comfortable, but not overly substantial."

He shrugged slightly. "We don't normally spend much. The only really expensive upkeep is Ruriko's really pretty dress fixation."

But then Chisel was addressing a woman in a brown maid-like outfit, and negotiating yet another costly service.

"Even _that_ isn't so expensive," Hawk laughed still watching her face, "though one could certainly do with using it less."

Kyo squinted at the woman, who was now consulting a clipboard. "Is she… a "Kafra"?"

"Oh! Does Kafra Corp not spread as far out as Arie?"

"No, I've only ever heard of them. What do they do?"

"They're basically public service. They do most things; they're in charge of the bank, post and travel services. You can hire carriages and the like from them, and they also offer a warp service. More prestigious servants to the nobility train at Kafra Corp."

Draco had been following their conversation. "I only wish they weren't so damn perky," she grumbled.

"You're forgetting who your sister is."

Chisel was apparently warping back to their house… cave… thing, to drop off all their parcels. The process took the best part of a quarter of an hour. When he returned, nursing his arms slightly, he handed over a handful of coins, and the Kafra girl stowed it away instantly in a pouch over her apron (did she really need an apron? Surely she didn't move from that spot too often…), and declared in a high sunny voice, "Thank you, sir; please come again!" On this overly cheery note, the guild made their way to the western gates.

It was apparently a week's walk to Yuno, one they obviously made often. The God's Cry did often feel the pain of not recruiting a priest. None of them were particularly good at taking injuries, and Taiken and Ruriko's healing talents left a lot to be desired. There was also this issue of travelling; anywhere they went, they walked.

"It's good exercise," said Taiken dismissively.

It was certainly tiring. Kyo had never walked more than a few miles at a time, but she was now required to spend days at a time just walking. She tended to lag behind the group. They stopped when it grew dark and awoke at sunrise. Being that it was still summer, she certainly felt she could do with more sleep.

And indeed, food. They all ate so little, she wondered if they didn't all have eating disorders. No wonder Carmina was so convinced they needed "feeding up".

"You don't think it would be a good idea to eat a bit more?" she asked Hawk, trying to pretend she didn't have a stitch.

He looked a little baffled by the question. "Well…" he began uneasily, "we have to pace our food." He paused slightly. "I'm sorry; you've never done much travelling before; I'll…"

"No, no, no," she interjected in a rush; he was looking worried suddenly. "I'll be fine."

He nodded, looking most unconvinced, though that evening he did try giving her his share of the food. It took some arguing to make her accept, but he was quite clearly the superior arguer.

The next day was so similar to all the previous days – bright, sunny, and with a cool dry breeze. They hadn't met anyone for quite a while. They were passing some lovely scenery over to their right. Great tumbling rolling hills, smothered heavily in woods into the distance and bright with summer's flowers. In the distance there was the dark blue outline of sharp cloud-shrouded mountains.

"That's the mountain range that houses the Payon region."

"Keep up," Draco added with a smile.

Kyo smiled apologetically and nodded, though still walked quite slowly. She was reasonably transfixed by the tranquil green view.

Something five-fingered coiled around her arm very tightly. She was about to shout out, but another hand clamped over her mouth, while the other detached from her, and an entire arm went tightly across her torso. Her eyes widened. She couldn't turn to fight back, or even see her foe. She struggled against the clamp over her chest. She felt her back pressed against someone much larger than her.

It all happened very quickly. Within a few seconds at most; there was no reason to suppose any of others had noticed.

The person holding her was starting to move away, dragging her with them – she stumbled slightly, but they lifted her from the ground to mask the noise. Her chakrams, usually at her sides, were gone. They must have taken them… Maybe she still had her knife… hopefully… She could move her elbows, though her arms didn't have many places to go.

She watched her view edge away from the group; she couldn't see what she was doing. Suddenly, her hand met cold metal – she clamped her fingers around the knife, and tore it from its sheath. The person holding her tensed more, noticing her unexpected and quick movement. She couldn't aim for the torso – instead she drove the blade into the leg behind her.

A grunt of pain signified her captor to be male. His grip loosened slightly, but not enough for a quick getaway. A clang on the ground – he dropped her chakrams. He took but a moment to recover grabbed her again roughly. Her feet left the ground again, he was much stronger than she was. He twisted her wrist around painfully, and she dropped her weapon.

The grass crackled – someone was advancing very quickly. Something black whizzed past her head with a shrill _whoosh_, and embedded itself in her captor's shoulder with a loud thud. He grunted again, and the iron clamp of his arm loosened.

She slipped beneath him, a little faster than she expected, and started away.

He recovered quickly too. He seized her arm and yanked her painfully backwards.

She suddenly caught sight of Oshi, but not for long. She landed in a heap, but close enough to her chakrams to grab one. With her free hand, she took up one of her weapons and drove it roughly in the direction of her foe.

She scrambled to her feet and picked up her other chakram, whirling around to face him. Oshi was now dangerously close, bringing up a katar for a good stab.

The man slipped past the assassin, and leapt back. It was hard to see what he was doing; he was dressed in long billowing black robes. He face was also hidden behind a mask. He stood straight and starting hissing out a spell.

Oshi took his place in front of Kyo, and Draco and Chisel rushed ahead of her also.

Ruriko squealed suddenly. "That's a necromancer! He's summoning an avatar!"

"Take them down quickly!" Taiken shouted.

_Them? More than one?_ Had he really finished summoning that quickly?

"Dark priests," muttered Draco darkly.

There were two of them, matted and dark, scars etched across what skin was visible. Kyo focused on one, who stared at her earnestly and steadfastly. They were after her.

Draco and Oshi sprinted immediately after them, and Chisel ran to attack the necromancer. A lot of noise erupted behind them. Kyo followed after a moment's hesitation – her foresight wasn't working. She hadn't often fought without it. It was more than unnerving that she should no longer have that advantage.

Now he had finished summoning; a giant, black bird-like creature had its claws latched defensively onto his shoulders. He was now also surrounded by five glowing red orbs, turning and swooping irregularly.

The first thing he did was throw them at Chisel, who hurriedly threw himself out of the way. The second thing he did was send the avatar after him. It spread its wings grandly and swooped off after the blacksmith. He raised his axe tensely.

Kyo noticed she could ignore the bird. She instead made for the necromancer; his masked face followed her perfectly calmly as an arm reached for a long sword.

She suddenly felt sceptical. He didn't seem to think her capable of a proper fight. He was probably right, but more of a reaction from him would have calmed her somewhat.

She threw her weight behind her weapons and barged straight at him. He met the attack calmly with his sword. She pushed against him, then remembered he was stronger, backed off, and tried striking again.

Despite the stab through the leg and the arrow in his shoulder, he didn't seem at all hindered. He was quick too. He met her attacks effortlessly. She swept about and struck as fast as she knew how, but he kept up.

He sidestepped a high kick. She span around to strike him with her other hand. The attack stopped, not with the clang of metal, but with a deft catch of her wrist. He caught her arm with his free hand, and twisted it while discarding his sword to grab her other arm. She pummelled her knee into his stomach, although all that did was make him wince. As soon as she dropped her chakram in one hand, he began twisting the other. He looked over her shoulder, and adjusted their angle slightly.

The pain in her arm started again, and she dropped her remaining weapon. He tugged her about slightly, trying to gather both her arms into one hand. It was getting very frustrating; her struggles were amounting to nothing.

Suddenly another pair of arms was in the fray. She felt bruising as one of the necromancer's hands was thrown from hers, and Hawk quickly pushed her away from him and punched him squarely in the mask.

Kyo tripped and landed on her back, and sat up quickly. The other man snarled in what was definitely frustration. He brought both fists across Hawk's face. The hunter's head was thrown back and he toppled to his knees more in surprise than anything else. He pulled his bow from his shoulder and had it notched and tensed in the blink of an eye.

"Hold!" he shouted sharply, staring defiantly up at his target. "Or this will go through your throat."

The necromancer did hold; he swayed slightly, maybe sifting through the dizziness Hawk's first punch had inflicted. Then he stopped moving completely. His masked face stared defiantly back at the hunter. There was a heavy pause.

"… _Hara_?" A voice, deep and strangely soft, spoke.

Hawk's aggressive stance drooped slightly, and his head inclined in confusion. "Who are you?" he said back, bewildered.

The necromancer tensed further. His posture was tired rather than calm now. He took a step towards them, then Hawk remembered that he'd threatened to shoot him and tensed his bow again.

A halt again. He slowly looked over what else was happening in the fight. Kyo turned too – she wasn't sure if they were winning or losing. Ruriko and Chisel were doing quite well against the avatar, from what she could tell. Draco and Oshi were vanishing in and out of sight too much. Taiken was doing something about a gash over Chisel's arm.

She turned back to see if she could discern anything from the necromancer's reaction. He made none. He was still deliberating over whatever it was, very slowly.

He made a move. "… Retreat for now," he called in a firmer voice. The dark priests looked at him, then teleported away, and the avatar vanished in a flash of light.

At the completion of this order, he looked back at Hawk. "Your name is Hara, correct? Hara Avis?" he said, the softer voice back.

"Who are you?" Hawk repeated, each syllable stressed aggressively. He arm holding his bowstring back was trembling.

The other said nothing. With a blindingly quick movement, he drew out another sword from his cloak and brought it under Hawk's chin. Hawk didn't move.

"Your were born is Hara Avis, correct?"

Hawk paused grudgingly, and heaved an agitated sigh. "… _Correct_," he spat back after a while.

The necromancer didn't move. "I see…" he whispered. He hissed out a spell, and had teleported away also.

When he was definitely gone, Hawk stood up, and replaced the arrow in his quiver. He turned and held out a hand to Kyo. She was surprised to see his face so white. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

She took his hand and stood up. All along her arms were red bruises where she'd been grabbed. "Are you?"

"Perfectly undamaged." He forced a small smile.

She suddenly remembered that she'd just gotten the guild involved in a rather tough fight. She whirled around, quite deeply ashamed not only that the attackers were specifically after her, but that she'd been unable to do anything herself. "Is everyone alright? I'm really very sorry…" she tried imploring.

Taiken cut her off. "It's not like it's your fault."

"But you all needn't have…"

"It's fine, Kyo, seriously." Taiken patted her on the shoulder. He turned to Hawk. "Are _you_ alright? He was asking your birth name."

Hawk nodded. "Yeah. I don't remember anyone who might've known my real name."

"Known?" Draco repeated. "As in… he definitely had it right?"

"He did."

Taiken paused slightly. "You really don't remember any of your childhood? It looks like you're the reason they left."

The hunter was shaking his head now, repeatedly. Alder swooped down from nowhere and perched on his forearm, crooning reassuringly.

"We should get moving," Oshi pronounced away from the agitated cluster. "And keep Kyo in the centre of group."

"Yeah," Chisel agreed, "that was damn close."

Kyo lowered her head and fidgeted nervously with her skirt. Chisel, Ruriko and Taiken took the lead, and Kyo sidled after them. The red marks on her arms ached as though the necromancer still had hold of her.

-X-X-

Payon caves were certainly interesting. Excel was also glad to have the opportunity of not worrying about Hyatt – there was no way the girl would ever be trusted to go on any trip, especially one so far from home.

She even found Ghost was easier to put up with, having discovered this new respect for her. She was just… odd, and there was nothing wrong with that.

"You didn't want to come," Excel said to her suddenly.

"I don't want anyone to come here," she replied nonchalantly, "it's too dangerous. Didn't the school want you to collect some of those?"

"Ah, yeah! Thanks… Well, there have always been monsters in here…"

"It's too dangerous," the acolyte interrupted, completely devoid of aggression. "No one knows just how deep these caves go, or what's in them. It's too dangerous."

Excel didn't have time to make a reply; she was hacking awkwardly away at some oddly rock-like mushrooms, and Ghost had decided to check on the rest of the group. Excel watched her. She moved with neither fatigue nor jaunt, instead clutching her cat doll firmly to her chest. Her fixation with it was so puzzling…

Their party numbered six. Other than Tone, herself, and Ghost, there were three others: Robin's cousin (his mother had named her), a fairly advanced archer who knew the outer caves quite well, and a reforming thief, affectionately dubbed "Pug".

Otono, like his cousin, was an aspiring crusader; he had made it his own mission to protect everyone. He was a complete dork really.

"Pug, did you hurt yourself again?" Ghost asked.

"No, I didn't!" he spat back indignantly.

"Please move your hand."

"I said no, Ghost!"

"Please move your hand now."

Ghost was persistent, patient, and kept her tone of voice the same, constantly. Pug was learning to let her treat his injuries. He had started out very arrogant and defensive about his getting hurt.

"Excel." It was Fern, the archer. "Tone and I were going to investigate the ahead route; we're not sure where it leads."

Excel nodded. "I'll wait for you here."

Otono and Pug, far too eager to be at the forefront of things, invited themselves to accompany Tone and Fern. The elder two shrugged and carried on without a word. The younger two took this for a yes.

Excel watched the light of their lamp vanish down the passage Fern had pointed to, and Ghost lit a spell of sight. She stood with it over Excel's mad mushroom hacking expedition.

"Thank you," she said.

"You've done your hands some harm; you should have worn your gloves. Let me heal them." The acolyte squatted down and held her palms open over Excel's scratches.

"Ghost, it's really fine, it's nothing…"

"I don't want them to get infected."

She closed the slightly insignificant wounds quickly. Excel quickly dug her gloves out of her pouch and put them on, and stowed away what she'd gathered. A crackle on the ground behind them signalled the return of Fern and the others.

"That was quick…" Excel began, rising to her feet and turning. She stopped.

It wasn't Fern and the others. It wasn't any of them.

She had no idea who this was.

Ghost was staring now too. She held out the blue flame right out in front of her. Their visitor didn't drawn back from the light.

Excel gasped and readied her hammer. They weren't human.

"_Put that down_," she drawled in a high voice.

"… Excuse me?"

"_I'm not looking for a fight, put it down_."

She hefting a fairly impressive weapon: slung lazily on one shoulder was a long pole, with a heavy golden bell hanging from the end. A bright blonde tail swished down her back, and above her young girl's face was a hood of fur, crowned with a tall pair of fox's ears. She was short and slim, her limbs ending in fur and paws.

She stood staring at them with almond shaped hazel eyes and a fanged frown.

"What are you?"

She turned to Excel. "_I have a name_."

"Well, OK… My name's Excel, and this is Ghost."

She nodded. "_My name is Moonlight Flower_." She grinned suddenly, showing many pointed teeth. "_What do you think? Isn't it a nice name? It's pretty, isn't it? I picked it myself_." She didn't wait for an answer. Her eyes swivelled instead back to Ghost. "_Who are you?_"

"I am as she says. People call me Ghost."

Moonlight Flower sniggered slightly, the bell over her shoulder clanging slightly. It was surprisingly loud. "_You're weird_," she said eventually.

"That's not nice," Excel broke in indignantly. She didn't want people thinking of Ghost like that.

"_I just mean her presence doesn't feel quite right_," replied Moonlight Flower, waving a paw nonchalantly. "_I sensed something odd a while ago, but then it left before I could investigate. Then I felt it again, so I came looking, and I found you_."

"I did not do this to myself," Ghost said. Excel was about to ask her what "this" was, but Moonlight Flower saw fit to reply to this.

"_I figured as much, child_," she said. "_I can't imagine any human would choose such a fate willingly_." She looked over at the passage where Fern and the others had gone, her large ears twitching slightly. "_Well, I was sure you weren't a threat, but you're certainly a strange presence. I hope you have fun doing… well, whatever it is you are doing. Although let me advise you to be careful._"

"We will, Moonlight Flower," Ghost replied.

Moonlight Flower nodded, and then sighed exasperatedly. "_Oh… She's out, and now her friend's out too. That reminds me, you need to watch out for one other. You did encounter her last time you were here, did you not?_"

"Who is "he"?"

"_I'm sure his name appears in your understanding of the events of her life. But be wary of him. I'm looking for him, but he's a tricky little whatsit. Do not try to fight him. He will kill you. Oh don't worry, precious_," she said when she saw Excel gaping. "_Just run like anything and you'll be fine. I hope to meet you again…_"

She turned and ran, the bell clanging lots, although she must have been able to move quietly should she want to. With a sweep of a pawed arm, she'd disappeared in a swirling of flames. Ghost waved.

"What was she talking about?" Excel asked, somehow short of breath.

"The "she" must have been Munak." _Whoa, what!_ "And if I remember rightly, the "he" will probably be her companion in life, Bongun."

"That's just a fairytale or something though, isn't it? Wait…" She stopped. "Is that why you didn't want us to come? Because you've… seen Munak?"

"Yes."

"Right," Fern had returned, "if we follow that route, we should find some sohees. Are you alright, Excel?"

"Oh… yes, I'm fine."

"Did we hear a bell earlier…?"

"No, no you didn't."

Ghost looked at her.


	20. Adeste fideles

_Adeste Fideles_

Chisel departed the day after their attack. The rest of the guild was to head west, while he was to continue north to Arie.

"I hope we'll see each other again…"

"We will," Chisel interjected, somewhat sternly. He was adamantly ignoring the sheer lunacy of the plans of both infiltrating Glast Heim and the Clock Tower, and was most furiously convinced that they were all going to be just fine. "Seriously, Taiken, count on it. You're not scared, surely."

"No, I prefer to remain completely insane, it makes things easier," Taiken replied, grinning. He wasn't looking forward to Glast Heim. "You be careful," he added; he also didn't like the idea of Chisel going that far north by himself, with a destination like the Clock Tower.

"You too. And the rest of you, too. Except Oshi, he'll be looking after everyone I expect."

Oshi smiled wryly, and made no contradiction.

Chisel laughed. "Thanks for the map, Kyo," he said, tipping his cap. She nodded and made a small noise in reply. He gave another jaunty laugh. "_Da-aw_, I love you guys," he said in a very silly voice.

"Our love will last forever!" Taiken declared extravagantly. He didn't want to part with Chisel, potentially forever, in any other way but a silly one.

It just wouldn't be right otherwise.

They parted ways slowly; Taiken almost felt heavier as they embarked on their separate routes. He wanted Ruriko to go to him for hugs, but she instead huddled to Draco at the back of the group. Hawk took this for a swap, and so jogged forward to join Taiken.

"No, not you! I wanted hugs from Ruri-wuri!" Taiken whined.

Hawk did a bit of a double take. "Hello, Taiken," he said after a bewildered pause.

"Fine," Taiken huffed, "I'll let you stay only if I can call you Hawky-poo."

"Taiken, do you like having arrows sticking out of various places in your head?"

"I've never tried it, Hawky-poo."

"Well, I'm seeing a lot of arrows and your head mixed together in your future is all…"

Hawk seemed to be in need of cheering after the… incident. Of course, the only way to go about this was to wind him up as much as possible.

"I love you, Hawky-poo!" Taiken declared suddenly, throwing his arms around the hunter's waist.

"I promise I will kill you one day, Taiken."

The strategy seemed to work, and the bard did get a glimpse into the influence Kyo the Nice Dancer Girl Who Took a Lot of Looking After was having on him.

"It's very unfair," Hawk said wearily. "You can call me Hawky-poo, but there's nothing can be done with 'Taiken'. Taikeny-waikeny just doesn't work, or even Taikeny on its own…"

"Please! Call me 'honey'!"

It was another day's walking or so to Juno, and as their destination drew nearer Taiken found he needed to try and calm himself somewhat. Irritating Hawk was a tried, tested and most faithful relaxation technique.

He had always found the Juno Academy of Magic very daunting, and he would rather avoid the place. He had been sent there when he was young, and while he displayed a vague knack for the art, he had no interest in learning magic. Telling Orius this had not been a pleasant task, and the memory still irked him. Orius remained courteous and kind as ever he was, although Taiken found spending time with him to be quite awkward, being that he was, officially, a dropout. It did feel like he'd let Orius down, and he wasn't sure just how acutely he'd offended the old headmaster.

So he let Ruriko do the talking, unless he was called upon to say something.

"What do you think, Taiken? Won't you decide?"

He looked to Ruriko, then to the professor applying to go with them to Glast Heim. Unfortunately, an earlier instance had served as fairly compelling evidence that this particular woman was related to Orius by blood.

"You fight with Rodusha cards mainly, right?" he asked her carefully. She nodded. "So you're pretty adept at enchanting objects with whole spells as opposed to elements?" Another nod. "So you can un-enchant objects as well?"

"I can indeed." She inclined her head and smiled somewhat dubiously. "May I ask to what these questions tend?"

"Ah, you may," he replied jauntily. "We're going to steal the scriptures of Nebilim, and we may need someone to dispel any enchantments on it, and I suspect you're more sensible of such enchantments than Ruriko…"

"Glad to see you've retained some of what you learned," Orius said with jovial sincerity, ruffling Taiken's hair as he passed. "Well, Arche? Do you really think you're up to this?"

"You're really planning on stealing the most prized possession of the dark priests'?" Arche asked.

Taiken frowned. "Well, not necessarily _steal_, but I have high hopes of it being a most interesting read."

"If we can take it out of Glast Heim, we shall," Draco added.

"But it'll be up to you and Ruriko to see if we can."

Arche nodded, rubbing her eyes behind her glasses. "I'll do it."

"So where did you draw the conclusion that you need to know the contents of the forbidden book of darkness?" Orius asked sceptically.

"Chisel said the dark priests must have the best understanding of the nature of Midgard." It was Ruriko's turn to talk again. She read out the extract Kyo had supplied them, and it was greeted by a slightly bemused silence.

"Okay," Orius said slowly. He paused. "Where did you hear that? Is it accurate?"

Though a large part of their coming to Juno was to acquaint Orius with Kyo and her "strange soul", they hadn't yet pointed her out, or indeed done anything to make them notice her. Orius and Arche had in fact been very careful to not look at her.

Ruriko pointed to the girl now, and her senior sages turned their gaze towards her. They suddenly looked very sceptical; their expressions were hard to read.

Kyo's cheeks went very red under this level of scrutiny. "Ah, well… someone read it out to me when I was young. That's the only part I've heard."

"Who was it? And why?"

This hit a nerve. Kyo's agitation heightened visibly over her features. She stared between the two strangers fearfully and swallowed. After a couple of attempts at speech, her voice did sound, though faintly: "I, um… forgive me, I…"

"Let's not make her say it if she doesn't want to," Oshi suddenly broke in.

"Alright," Orius agreed with a nod. He seemed a little surprised at Kyo's sensitivity.

"They're interested in her, the dark priests," Taiken supplied, looking to Ruriko to take up the new thread of discussion.

"Yeah, we got really attacked," she grumbled. "They must have masked their trail, I didn't sense any other human presence besides ourselves. The necromancer waited until he _had_ to summon his avatar."

"How many were there?"

"The necromancer and two dark priests. Chisel and I managed to keep the avatar busy, but that wasn't just an average necromancer, that avatar was really strong. And how did you two do against the others? They had something going…"

Draco looked sidelong at her. "Surviving," she said simply.

"It was a bit of a stalemate, although I think they would have outlasted us."

"Really?" Ruriko bit her lip. "What about you two and the necromancer?" she asked eventually.

"My foresight wasn't working," Kyo said quietly. Arche was knelt in front of her while she wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. Hawk was holding one of her hands.

"He was a good combatant," he said. "I'm glad he wasn't armed when I attacked him."

"Yes, I couldn't beat him. He was far too strong."

"We need to find out who he is," Draco said suddenly. "If only we could've seen his face…"

"After being attacked like that, I would've thought your plans to go to Glast Heim would be somewhat dampened?" Arche cut in.

"Oh, we're not exactly _encouraged_," Taiken replied with a shrug, "but we must go there, certainly. And it isn't so bad; Hester's coming with us."

Arche turned with Who is Hester? written across her face.

"Canth's sister," Orius explained shortly. This apparently made sense to her, and she turned back to Kyo. "Another claim on your interest: we do indeed have some records of previous excavations, and a general trend throughout them is that their magic users particularly had a lot of difficulty functioning there. Hunters couldn't work some of their arts, but those of magical-orientation in their functions encountered very trying difficulties of a peculiar kind."

-x-x-

"Something to do with their sensitivity," Arche mused, frowning.

They started early the next day. The school's abundant library had many stacks of paper regarding Glast Heim to be sifted through.

"Really?" She and Ruriko were the ones going through the library's material on Glast Heim, as a lot of it was in the Language of the Making.

Draco was just watching really; she found she was able to get away with napping, though the sages worked tirelessly. It wasn't as though she was doing much. The only reason she was up was so she could get Ruriko up, and she had to stay up to set a good example. The rest of the guild was enjoying a lie-in.

_Bastards._

"Yes… I believe Uncle was trying to make a point about the Arien."

"Ah yeah; she's _really_ sensitive."

"But how sensitive is _really_ sensitive? It sounds as though we're going to hardly know what day it is, and if she's anymore sensitive than us then she's not going to be thinking straight." Ruriko didn't reply. "I don't think she's going to be master enough of herself in there to go. Oh, I think this part on this map is _that_ part on that map…"

Part of the research involved assembling a kind of makeshift map. Some of the bolder ones labelled buildings with question marks. There was one that charted the layout of the city itself, in whole. But most of the diagrams were centred around the unfathomable castle. It took quite a while before they noticed that the place marked "Chivalry(?)" on one was in fact part of the castle as it was half-plotted on another.

"Actually, I wasn't sure about Kyo going anyway," Draco supplied quietly.

"But she was really good against Phreeoni and the thief bug!" Ruriko protested.

"Against those creatures, yes, she held her own. But she's not a combatant. I'm concerned that she said her foresight 'wasn't working'. It's always kicked in whenever she got into trouble before. And you said the dark priests were working some kind of enchantment in that fight that you couldn't figure out? … I think they can stop her foresight from working."

"Well…" Ruriko tried arguing again; but they still didn't know _how_ the foresight worked. "But… it's so horrible to just leave her on her own…"

"But it would be even more horrible to drag her to Glast Heim where she can't defend herself. She'll understand when we explain."

"And you say the dark priests are after her? Then it may not be the best idea to take her to their base. Although I do wonder why they haven't come after her until now?"

"Yes, that's something that's been on my mind too… They should have picked up her trail when she left Arie. Hawk walked a week's journey without any disturbance after he found her."

And then she was safe the moment she entered the labyrinth. And the oridecon bands each guild member possessed weren't just for opening doors. Only Ruriko knew the full extent of the spells placed on them, but one thing known to all the guild was that it made them impossible to be scryed or tracked.

But they'd found a way of following her.

Although a thought that Draco had dwelt on more than once was that they didn't seem to expect her to be with others.

"I'm not sure why," she tried to Oshi (she was used to bouncing ideas off of him), "but I think they were expecting her to be alone."

He agreed. "I think you must be right," he replied with a nod. "Though it's not likely we would have won, their numbers didn't match ours; and the necromancer didn't summon his avatar until a fight began. Also, the way they tried to separate her from us – because their formation was planned with the belief that she would be on her own."

That at least was something in their favour. The necromancer had ordered their retreat because of the presence of Hawk, though most unfortunately, probably not because they thought him a threat.

Something not necessarily in their favour was the necromancer's knowing not only Hawk's real name, but his surname as well. Hawk was certainly more than a little perturbed.

Also, they were on the main route between Juno and Prontera – it wouldn't be difficult to deduce where they were gone, no matter how well the Heart of Ymir could mask anyone's trail.

"I think they must be in the church yard," Ruriko suggested. "At least I was expecting the church bit to really well plotted, but it isn't so."

"Yes, the chivalry's well done in comparison. But this is the Nightmare City, we must be prepared to face other evils besides the dark priests. Hey, look at this…" Arche proceeded to read out the document she was holding – though in the Language of the Making, which Draco didn't find especially helpful. Ruriko swerved around the table to read over the other's shoulder.

"Do you know what that one means?" Arche said, pointing to a place on the page. Ruriko peered closer, squinting slightly.

"_Plagas_," she said.

"You think so?" Arche seemed slightly surprised.

Ruriko nodded. "Yeah so, I mean, look…" Draco didn't pay much attention to next bit, as her sister proceeded to dive into an embarrassingly complicated explanation about how it looked like that rune and that other rune stuck together with a slight accenting of that rune and she'd seen one like it one other place and another similar to it a few other times…

Arche apparently followed. "Right, so… an undead sort of thing, not of flesh and blood, a creature of illusion… Hang on!" Draco jumped. "It's talking about a lytch."

"Then what was that bit about…?" More Language of the Making. She babbled it very quickly, Draco had no time to discern any familiar words.

The other sage bit in one cheek and frowned. "Well, I guess that's the point of his adding it in. If there's one place you'll find lytches, it'll be the Nightmare City, but lytches don't necessarily exist – so he's saying it looks like it could be a lytch, has all the signs… but it lacked something."

"Like what?" Draco asked.

"Like it didn't kill him. Lytches don't _see_ see, not with eyes like we do. They do it purely on energy waves. Anything that had a soul wouldn't be able to hide itself from a lytch, and nor would it be able to run once the lytch found it."

"They sound like a bit of a problem; do they even exist?"

"They're mere talk, or so we hope. If they do exist, they'll be in Glast Heim. But this person seems to think that whatever he saw wasn't actually a lytch…"

"So what did he see? Does he describe it?"

Arche scanned the paragraph again. "… No," she decided. "He doesn't really know. He says it was immensely powerfully magic, and a creature of illusion…"

"Is it going to be a problem? Has it cropped up a lot?"

The sage gave an odd bewildered shrug. "This is the first real mention of it, as in going into detail, giving it the time of day, what have you… A few other things have said they sensed something 'of illusion', but none of them seem to have seen, or at least if they have they haven't made a big deal of it."

Draco grinned. "I like that," she said, stretching her arms. "A 'creature of illusion'…"

-x-x-

It made sense Kyo shouldn't go to Glast Heim. They were doing it for her own good, leaving her behind. She was too weak, it was as simple as that.

But what if they didn't come back? Where would she go? She'd be truly alone. She'd have to rely on strength she didn't have.

Ruriko had approached her about learning shadow magic. She'd been surprised about it certainly, and not especially happy about it. It definitely felt like she would be doing something wrong. Her mother had always been careful to keep Kyo away from the arts she'd been brought up in.

But she wanted to make herself useful. To do that, she needed power. She couldn't turn to holy magic, powers driven by faith – what she had was powers granted by greed.

She must've looked uneasy about it, as Hawk also came forward to talk to her about the issue.

"Are you sure you're alright about this? We won't force you if you don't want to…"

"I just don't know what to think about it," she replied with more certainty than she thought she had. "I mean, wouldn't it be… wrong?"

"Do you know where those blessings came from? Do you know how your mother gained them? Do you know what the rituals involved? Did you carry out the rituals?" He kept his gaze on her, and she had time to shake her head sheepishly between questions. And he was making his point: "It isn't your fault you have them. There's no shame in using them."

She didn't say anything. She couldn't think of an objection.

"Well, I would call what the dark priests are doing "bad", "evil", whatever floats your boat, wouldn't you? Killing people for power, killing innocent people. Somebody needs to stop them. And I know that if I had the potential to make a difference, I wouldn't ignore it."

She felt a little dumbfounded. She agreed with him.

"Taiken's always saying, 'I'd rather be in trouble for doing something than doing nothing'," Hawk continued. He grinned. "One of the things that makes him so awesome… Will you think about it?"

"No, I've decided," she replied quickly. "I'll… try. I'll try and learn it."

Ruriko applied to Orius for assistance with this endeavour.

Orius may have been Ruriko and Taiken's old teacher, but he was still a complete stranger.

"I imagine you'll be happier learning from Ruriko," he said slowly. "I can teach you the basics of spell casting, but I'm afraid my knowledge of shadow magic is somewhat limited. It's not a type of magic usually taught in institutions such as ours."

"Oh, I understand. Just learning the basics will be fine, thank you."

He smiled. "I'm aware of a few helpful passages in the library."

Draco and Ruriko were in the room at the time, and Draco began sniggering. Orius inquired with friendly patience what exactly was so amusing.

"That's typical mage practice," she articulated with a grin. "Very long reading lists."

The next day, the others departed for Glast Heim. They left quite early in the morning, as soon as it was light. They were a crowd that would draw a lot of unwanted attention, what with there being two well-known sages, and also high priestess Hester. The sky was pale gold, and Juno the white city emitted the same sweet glow.

The guild and their other companions assembled in front of the portal to the ground.

"Please be careful," Orius said for the hundredth time. "Stay together, make sure no one gets left on their own…"

Kyo wanted to say things like that as well, but she suddenly found she couldn't speak. She instead kept her head down and her hands clasped in front of her.

The more talkative of the God's Cry assured everyone they would be fine, and contrary to popular belief (according to Taiken), weren't that stupid. The sage Arche remained quiet, but Hester explained she would do her best to look after everyone.

Orius and the other professors whose names Kyo didn't know turned and departed solemnly back to the school. Taiken also chivvied everyone to the portal, in good spirits.

Except Hawk.

Taiken piped up. "Don't worry, Kyo," he proclaimed cheerily. "We'll come back." She knew rather than discerned that he didn't really believe those words. "Just do your best with your homework, alright?"

She thought it was funny he'd called her studies into shadow magic homework. She couldn't help a smile.

His objective accomplished, the bard disappeared through the portal with the others. Only Hawk remained.

He'd been very quiet. He'd kept his head down too. With everyone else gone, he walked up to her now.

She looked up at him to see him staring down at her sadly. She felt regret prickle her insides, and hugged him before he noticed any change in her facial expression. He hugged back without much delay.

They stayed like that for a while. Kyo realized she was going to miss this – his strong, calm presence, and being able to seek him out for comfort.

He pulled back slowly, keeping his hands on her shoulders. He gave her the same woeful look with his eyes, but his lips turned up in a smile.

"I'll come back. Really," he said suddenly.

She nodded. "I'll wait for you then. Please come back safely." She tried smiling at him, but she had a feeling it was the same sad one he gave her.

He didn't say anything, but nodded back. He took his hands off her shoulders, and made for the pillar. He gave a jaunty wave, and a genuine grin, which cheered her immensely. Her own smile spilled over her features, and even a laugh. She raised her arm and waved him good-bye.

Then he was gone.

It took her quite a while to move from where she was. She just stood still, with a horrible, heavy feeling of emptiness. She was going to miss everyone terribly.

Remembering her promise to do her best with her "homework", she started back through the empty streets of Juno's dawn. She'd heard of Juno, but obviously never been. She was still awed by the tall, white sloping buildings with their pillars and their arches, and just the sheer size of the place, and that everywhere was paved with the same bright white stone, smothered in silver runes. It was a strange sensation – this large, heavily populated city, just waking up. She didn't meet anyone on the way back to the academy.

She was staying in the teacher's section of the academy, but her destination for the timebeing was the library, which consisted of an entire tower. Orius was right: there wasn't an overabundance of information of shadow magic to be found. She didn't spot anything especially promising, and decided she should probably start with the books Orius had given her. She headed back to her room.

She peered dubiously up and down the starkly lit corridor. Nothing there apparently. She frowned, rubbing the back of her neck to stop it feeling all prickly. She unlocked the door as quickly as possible. With a last glance down the corridor, she slipped briskly into her room.

She shut the door behind her carefully, trying to stay quiet.

As the handle clicked back into place, something rough and adamant wrapped over her chest, and something sharp and cold was pressed against her neck; she was again clamped to stillness against someone much stronger and larger than herself. Again.

Without thinking she tried to break away, but his arm pressed her tighter against him. She stopped moving. Her heart began racing.

She felt him lean closer, so his voice hissed next to her ear. "Lock the door," he commanded quietly.

She didn't want to, but she wasn't in a position to disagree. She waited for a bright idea, but she didn't want the command repeated. Her arm moved rigidly. It was only when the lock clicked closed that she realized she had no idea what he was going to do to her.

He watched without moving. She edged her hand away, hoping to leave the key in the lock for a slightly quicker getaway when the time came. Although her hand hadn't even left it when the cold thing over her neck vanished, and his hand came into view, holding a knife, and he snatched the key away.

"Good," he said. She quivered as he spoke. "I do not wish to fight you. I merely wish to speak with you. Calm down," he added out of nowhere. "Don't shake." She still wasn't taking in what he was saying. "I want to ask you some questions. I am not here by the orders of my superiors. But it I find you less than co-operative, I will subdue you and take you to them. You must realize I am capable of this."

He released her. A little dazed, she remained where she was. She listened to his footsteps moving across the room. There was a scraping of fabrics – he'd sat down.

She still didn't move.

"Won't you sit down?" he asked. He was using the softer voice now.

It took her a couple of seconds for her stiffness to subside enough for movement. She slowly made for the chair next to his. Everything she did had slowed to a rigid crawl; she felt like she was wading through sand. She sat slowly as well.

She stayed silent.

"You're looking very pale; are you feeling alright?"

She didn't reply. Of course she wasn't feeling alright; the situation seemed fairly self-explanatory.

He sighed, then leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder. She wretched, frightened further. The hand's pressure increased until she became still again, then the touch became gentler. "Be assured, child, that I have no intention of harming you. My superiors do not know that I have come here, and it will remain that way if all goes according to plan." He paused, and kept his hand on her shoulder. She kept her eyes on the floor in front of her. "I am not here kidnap you, take advantage of you, threaten you, or harm you in any way. Now, please don't be so scared."

She shifted her gaze to his face, not that there was much point – he was still wearing the mask. She couldn't discern any reaction. He looked relaxed, and he was trying to be friendly. Not able to find words to reply, she nodded at him instead.

"Good, thank you," he said, finally removing his hand. "Now, I understand if you can't answer all my questions, but please do your best."

She nodded again. Her mouth felt very dry.

"Now, first I would like to ask how Hara came to join that group of people, and who they are to him."

She felt surprised. But of course, it was going to be about Hawk. She didn't like the idea of relating everything he'd told her about himself to stranger, especially someone they considered an enemy. "Well… he was guarding the area where they set up their base, and he helped set them up. They're a guild. He's a member. They're his friends."

The necromancer nodded. "Right…" he said, mulling over the information. "Do you know how he ended up there?"

"Vaguely. He said he just sort of drifted around, looking for a place to stay, and the forest welcomed him. He found Alder there. His falcon," she added quickly.

"What of his parents?"

It came out quite sharply. "Ah… He doesn't know her name, but his mother was a priestess, from Payon. He loved his mother very dearly…" Something in his manner had changed. "They lived by themselves for quite a while. He doesn't remember his childhood very well, but apparently his father… well, he hates him. His father did something terrible. He doesn't remember what it is though."

"I see…" Kyo looked carefully at the mask. She wished she could see his face. "And yourself?" She actually jumped at this. "What are you to him, and he to you?"

Her face became very hot. "Well…" she began nervously. "When my village was destroyed, he found me on the outskirts and brought me to the guild. And um… well, he takes care of me, and talks me out of feeling dreadful, and gives me advice… He's my best friend."

He kept looking at her. "… And?"

"Oh! Um…" It was embarrassing trying to think of what she was to Hawk. "I don't imagine I'm nearly so helpful to him as he is to me. But… he said he hasn't had many friends. And everyone else in the guild is great, but I don't think they know as much about him as I do."

The necromancer laughed. She looked up (she'd been staring into her lap), startled by this level of noise. "And you really don't think you're a valuable friend to him?"

"It's not my place to say."

He nodded, obviously still amused. "Where has the guild gone then?"

She hadn't been expecting this. She felt her eyes widen, but she never had much control over her facial expression.

"Like I said," he broke in, observing her reaction, "I don't want my superiors to know about this. So they won't find out anything that you tell me."

She still felt dubious.

"I won't say anything to them. I just need to find Hara. Now, where is he gone? When will he be back?"

"I don't know when he'll back, or if he'll be back…" she mumbled. She looked up with worry; she hadn't meant to add the last bit, but it was something that was weighing heavily on her mind.

"What do you mean?"

She was frightened by the sudden sternness of his tone. "It's Glast Heim," she blurted out. As soon as she'd done it, she realized she really, really shouldn't have.

"Glast Heim?" he repeated stonily.

_Too late…_ "Yes."

"Are you sure? Why are they gone there?"

"They… We need to read the scriptures of Nebilim. To understand the nature of the world."

The necromancer rose, now agitated. His hands curled into fists at his sides. She was afraid he'd forgotten the not-to-harm-her part of his agenda, but when he turned to her again, he was careful. "Thank you for answering my questions."

"May I ask you something as well, sir?" she asked, keeping her tone as polite as possible. She felt a little faint.

He looked at her, stiffened, then replied with an affirmative "mm" noise.

She nodded, and tried to smile as thanks. "Why me?" she asked. "Why are they after me?"

He seated himself again. "I knew Maia when she was a shadow priestess. She was very powerful. She was also the half-sister of the current guildmaster to the dark priests – their father was the previous guildmaster. But her mother was found to be a descendant of Glast Heim's prophets – we possess all of Glast Heim's old records, so we can track down people like your grandmother – so Aduro the previous guildmaster wanted a child out of her.

"There is something outside Midgard, trying to break the barriers between the worlds and corrupt the flow of souls. This is a being of immense power. Naturally, the dark priests want control of it. To do this, they need a vessel for it. There are the old avatars fit for possession, but they can't be controlled by any human. They need a human vessel, something they can control.

"There have been many attempts to create these vessels. The rituals are difficult, and often cause a lot of harm to the subject. These failed vessels were often left with permanent damage, or dead. But Maia was different. Something about Maia made it possible to make her into an empty vessel.

"Now, you may or may not be aware of how your mother and father met, but I am; Maia and I were about the same age, and sometime ago I had confided in her that I had found a "best friend", as it were. She was about fifteen when she met Arctos the paladin. Not knowing any better, she told him all that was entailed in her becoming a vessel. It isn't pleasant. When her sixteenth birthday arrived, she was expected to endure a lot of suffering. Arctos, being a man of faith and compassion, decided to get her out. He made Maia see things his way. Aduro saw this as kidnap.

"He did try and recapture her, but Arctos was not to be underestimated. He hid Maia skilfully. You were born to them, and I don't think you want me to relate the rest.

"However, that you are Maia's daughter and have apparently inherited her powers makes you very valuable."

Kyo swayed slightly under all this information. "I wasn't expecting you to answer that," was all she managed.

"I understand all that is involved in becoming a vessel. I wouldn't want you to go through it."

"But you…"

"Tried to kidnap you, yes. Something happened, and I've had a change of heart."

Kyo knew what she had to ask next, but she couldn't find the words.

"I was not among the party sent after your father," he said suddenly, as though hearing her thoughts. "I'm sorry, but they wanted Maia back, and Arctos was an obstacle. As bitter as I was about the turn of events in my own life, I wouldn't agree to ruining Maia's. I wouldn't want Arctos dead." His tone deepened. "I'm afraid they did go to a lot of trouble to find him – many people of the holy orders were hunted down and killed. They did not expect to see a child though. Fortunately, dark priests are rather mechanical about following orders – they weren't given any briefing about what to do if a child was discovered, so they left you alone. But now Maia is dead as well. You're their target now. Abyssion is determined to possess you. I do believe you met him briefly…"

She thought back to the dream of the child and the City of the Dead. That was him. He'd rescued her, not out of compassion…

"Isn't he…?"

"Your uncle? Yes, technically he is. He is also the current guildmaster of the dark priests." He paused. "But do not think of him as your uncle. He feels no affection towards you, and you do not know him. Regardless of blood, he will never be your family."

She nodded and swallowed, still curious about one particular aspect of his information. "What does becoming a vessel involve?"

He sat very still. "Losing what makes you human. But you won't be going through any of that."

That seemed an odd reply. Wasn't he supposed to be on their side? She nodded anyway, feeling grateful, if a little dubious. "Why are you helping me? You could have chosen not to answer my questions."

"Like I said, something happened, and I had a change of heart."

"What happened?"

"I'll choose not to answer that," he replied primly.

"Alright… Why are you so interested in Hawk?"

She saw his head incline slightly. "You mean Hara?" She nodded. "Again, I'd rather not answer."

"But you knew his name, and…" She stopped when he didn't say anything. He wasn't going to answer; he sat sternly still. "Would you have really taken me to Glast Heim if I hadn't answered your questions?"

"My reason for asking them was to decide whether or not I would bring you to Abyssion. I would have indeed. Now, child," he stood, then reached down and pulled her to a stand by her hands. She didn't rile this time when his grip closed on her. "I must return to Glast Heim. I will do my best to keep Hara and the others out of real peril, but should Abyssion learn of my activities I won't be able to help you or your friends anymore. They will all likely suffer for it as well, and you will be made into a vessel for that being of hate." He released one of her hands, reached into his robes, and pressed the key into her fingers. "I know your name is Kyo. I am Pandion. Now, I gather from those books on your desk you are going to be studying shadow magic?"

How long had he been in her room?

"It's not easy, I'll warn you now. I'll contact you again at some point; I'll write to you at some point, and I'll tutor you. Obviously, I won't be able to write the letter in my name, but you'll know it's from me. Do you know what _adeste fideles_ means?" She shook her head. "It's old Pronteran; it means 'come faithful people', or something to that effect." She nodded, repeating the information to herself in her head. "I'm going to teleport outside the city now," he continued, "and they are going to sense my presence because of it. Please don't tell them that we spoke."

"Alright." She was beginning to wonder if she should trust him.

"Thank you." He squeezed her hands once, then whispered a spell and disappeared in wave of cold blue light.

She looked at the key in her hand. He'd done as he said – she wasn't harmed. A little perturbed perhaps, but perfectly undamaged. She decided it was okay to trust him.

X-X-X

It seemed the ruined Geffen didn't house any threats. Or at least the threats weren't doing much threatening anymore. The days trickled on, and Shigeru was beginning to talk of burying the place in seals. Khan didn't like the idea – the place needed to be cleansed.

Khan started. There was some sort of movement near the gate. He tore his crossbow from his back and held it ready.

Runa was stood framed in the gates again. She brought out a hand from behind her back and gave a short tense wave. Then Khan noticed the inaccuracies of the armour. It wasn't her.

She tilted her head towards the ruined city, then walked away. It definitely wasn't her, and though he knew who it was anyway, Khan followed.

He paced calmly after the figure, crossbow still spread over his arms, and as he rounded a corner he would catch sight of Runa turning another. They were headed for the same place as last time.

When he stepped into the ruined marketplace, Runa waited some few yards away from him, wearing a troubled frown.

"I know it's you, Doppelganger."

The creature said nothing, but gave a slight sigh and then raised his head to meet Khan's gaze with Runa's. Then the armour and body melted away into the familiar young swordsman.

"_You came anyway._"

"And you called. What did you want?"

Doppelganger shifted uneasily and fiddled with a shabby leather gauntlet. He thought a moment longer before saying, "_To warn you_."

Khan frowned. "About what?"

The swordsman dithered again, knotting his fingers together and scuffing his feet in agitation. When he spoke again, all his voices were weighted with guilt. "_I let him out_."

"Let what out?"

"_I didn't mean to, didn't want to, it made me because it couldn't take my mind. Couldn't take my mind because I made it my own. My mind is mine so I can't do what it wants. So it made me fetch something that can…_" He was speaking very quickly. His phrases rolled and tumbled as though he were crying, but he wasn't human nor capable of such a thing. "_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry… but he's out now and as soon as he realizes he'll want blood and I don't know how to put him back, it wasn't my seal, don't know how to put him back there. I think if you could rescue him…_"

"What do you mean by rescue?"

"_Return him to his old self. He broke himself so badly no human would recognise him as one of their kind, even them as helped him. Although he's so broken I don't know that anyone could fix him…_"

"What did they do? Who broke him?"

"_He's a mistake of theirs, and his own mistake. I don't know them too well, but they are so steeped in darkness and he is too. But he is so far from human that even they won't recognise him as one of theirs. It was their seal… but it was darkness that did it and so…_"

"So you need…"

"_Someone steeped in the light of faith_."

"That's not a paladin's call," Khan tried. "You'll want an exorcist for that sort of thing."

"_But… the first of your kind…_"

"What about him?"

"_Didn't he purge the darkness of human hearts by his own death upon the cross? I've seen the marks…_"

It was a trait of most crusaders. Any seasoned crusader would have used the Grand Cross purging spell time and time again, and so the marks stayed; they were the marks branded onto the first paladin, a holy man born to an untouched maiden, the marks that killed him to drive the darkness from wicked man's heart. Khan, and just about all of the other paladins in the camp, had the scars from the marks: flogging cuts all over the back, thorn scratches all around the head, and nail holes in the feet and wrists.

"An exorcist would still be a better bet. But do you have any idea what they did to him?"

Doppelganger shook his head. Though he didn't make any other movement or sound, some of the voices he used sighed woefully.

"And he hasn't noticed that he's free?"

"_It's only a matter of time. He will awaken soon. I'll do my best to keep him in that tower._"

"Right… Well, thank you, I suppose. Thank you for this warning. But may I ask why you have done this?"

Doppelganger looked up. "_I live on this world too. My mind is my own; I don't want this place destroyed. My memories adore this world…_"

"I understand. And why does it want..."

He didn't finish. Doppelganger had drawn his weapon, looking a little stricken. He stared blankly ahead. Khan tried following his gaze, but there wasn't anything there.

"… Doppelganger?"

"_They make the trees theirs, their own,_" he mumbled. He wasn't speaking to Khan. "_Trees of the north are black and white, trees of the south are happy, trees of the west are strong, trees of the east bleed…_"

"What are you talking about? What's wrong?"

"_What's mine and what isn't? Not mine, not any of it. Go away, go away, go away…_" The creature paced the place feverishly, turning quickly, movements short and static, and always shaking. Few of his voices were speaking his words – they grumbled and screamed and sang their own woes, whatever they were. "_None of it's mine and I can't give it back. Hate it I do. My hate? Which of it's mine?_" His movements slowed, and he trembled more. The voices weren't his.

Khan began backing away. There was a lot of screaming, all stricken and shrill. Men, women, children… Doppelganger's mouth moved, still muttering incoherently, but no sound came out. His eyes were wide and wary – he couldn't hear his own words. They weren't calming him.

The creature swiped his sword frantically at something. Khan didn't know what to do. He didn't know what was going on, and he was frightened. The fear in the many voices was so sharp he felt it pressing angrily into his skin.

He couldn't see any remedying Doppelganger's agitation, nor could he see the cause. He turned and ran.

When he was back amongst the camp, Shigeru was apparently looking for him, which suited him fine. They needed an exorcist.

Though this amount of convenience seemed to suggest Shigeru too had heard Doppelganger's words, it turned out all it was that Khan had received a letter, from someone very important apparently.

The handwriting was far too neat. The writer was very organized, no doubt – they also appeared to be from Geffen, or closely associated with the place, as it was signed in the formal way of ending letters in their culture, and in their old language. And indeed, the seal on the envelope was Geffen's mandarin flower crest. Khan tore the paper open.

"_Sir,_

_First of all, I should like to convey my thanks for your endeavours into our old home. Many of our survivors take comfort in our dead being returned to us. Please make our sentiments known to your superiors._

_My primary reason for writing is thusly: I have been briefed on the unique trouble you have received. It may interest you to know that such a creature appears in our folklore. The rhyme passed around Geffen is in common-tongue, and to my knowledge always has been, so it is post Guerre. It is as follows:_

'_In the stillness of the starless night  
__Where no more shines poor vain light  
__There dwells a man alone.  
__He stands and he sighs  
__And bitterly he cries  
__To nobody but the tower's night.  
__Should him you see  
__Silent be  
__Or you shall share his eternal grief.  
__And fear should he turn to you  
__As your presence is known,  
__By the tower's night you see his face  
__And it be your own.'_

_Obviously the 'starless night' and 'tower's night' are the same. Students are required to venture into the depths of the tower as part of the combat portion of their studies. Speaking from personal experience, going in there is a lot like going through a starless night._

_A little explanation is required for the 'no more shines poor vain light'. The 'no more' indeed implies that light used to shine there. You may or may not be aware that the city, or the ruin thereof, known as Geffen was fairly new, compared to places like Prontera and Amatsu. Old Geffenia was completely destroyed during the Guerre te Muladi, and after the Treaty of the First King was established Geffen was built over the ruins by Prontera. It is highly likely that the setting of the 'tower's night' is in fact Geffenia._

_There have been many theories as to how Prontera managed to destroy an entire city, but the one that is most substantially supported is as follows. Somewhere deep in the tower (very deep – Ivas proclaimed it Out of Bounds) is a stone monument, with illegible writing and talismans covering it, which was split down the middle. It is thought that this monument was a seal of some sort. It hasn't ever been properly investigated, but it is suspected this seal was sabotaged. While the monument exists as compelling evidence, no records on Prontera's substantiate such a history (for obvious reasons)._

_I am told the word Doppelganger literally means 'ghostly double' (it isn't a Geffenian word). The superstition behind the doppelganger is that if you see yours, you die. The idea behind this lies in the concept of out of body experiences – if while wandering around you see yourself, it must be your ghost, and you are in fact, not in your body and a ghost also, and it is at this point that you realize you're dead. Ivas explained better than I could._

_If you have any questions, then please do not hesitate to ask. Myself and the other remaining high wizards are staying in Juno serving as teachers, and we would be glad to be of aid to you._

_Je vous prie d'agrées Monsieur, l'expression mes sentiments respecteux._

_High Wizard Arne_"


End file.
